More Than Together III
by seilleanmor
Summary: A thirty day fanfiction challenge. Each chapter is based on a prompt word. In the same universe, but not chronological. Each is exactly one thousand words. SPOILERS for all US aired episodes.
1. Juvenile

**Juvenile**

* * *

The loft is quiet when Kate makes it through the door, her daughter's head just visible above the back of the armchair she's curled into. Shucking her jacket and heels, Beckett dumps them in a pile in the entryway for her husband to trip over later and pads in her stockings over to her little girl.

Coming around the chair, Kate goes to her knees on the hardwood and smoothes her hands down her pencil skirt, reaching out to curl her fingers around Beatrice's bare foot. She's curled up in the seat like a tiny thing, Baudelaire half on top of her and licking at her neck, and tears skim silently down her cheeks.

"Sweet girl," Kate breathes, and her daughter's eyes come open. They're bloodshot, her lashes clinging together, and her face seems scraped raw with salt and grit. "What's wrong? Come here."

Beatrice slides down from the seat and into Kate's arms, the dog squirming between their bodies until Kate settles a hand at the top of his skull and he goes still, nose nuzzling into Bea's palm. "We broke up."

"You broke up with Noah?"

Her daughter nods, teeth sinking hard into her bottom lip, but it doesn't stop the sob from escaping her and her mouth turns down at the corners in an ugly slash.

"Yeah. I was talking to Alexis about what college was like for her, and she said that she and her high school boyfriend couldn't make long distance work, so me and Noah talked about it and we decided to break it off. So we can enjoy college with no strings attached."

"Oh, sweetheart," Kate soothes, fingers carding through the spill of Beatrice's hair, and her lips land at her daughter's temple in a shadow of a kiss. "I know it hurts. I know."

"Mama," Bea moans, turning her face into Kate's neck, and a skinny arm wraps around her mother's waist and clings tight. The dog makes a strangled noise, crushed between them now, and Baudelaire rolls onto his back and lifts a paw to rest at Bea's cheek, his tail thumping against the floor.

Kate rocks her daughter in her arms, palm at the curve of Beatrice's skull while she cries herself out. Her neck itches where Bea's tears are pooling but she grits her teeth and ignores it, won't shift her baby girl even a millimetre.

"I know we're just kids still," Bea says wetly, tugging her head back to look at her mother. "But I love him, Mom. It hurts."

"I know it does. I know," Kate murmurs, her free hand settling at the dog's stomach and scratching, making his leg twitch. "But it won't hurt like this forever, I promise. You'll go to college and you'll make so many friends, and you'll be okay sweet girl."

Swiping at her cheeks, Beatrice wrinkles her nose when her palms come away wet and gruffs a little noise, her head dropping heavily against Kate's shoulder. "When is Dad coming home?"

"A couple of hours," Kate says, easing her little girl carefully out of her lap. "Now, let's move to the couch and watch the girliest movie we can find."

"Won't Dad be upset if we raid his DVD collection?" Beatrice smirks, and Kate's heart rolls over in gratitude to see some light come back into her daughter's face.

Tucking her daughter's hair back behind her ears, Kate shares a grin with her and opens her arms to the dog when he crawls into her lap, his two front paws over her shoulder like a child. "He never has to know. You choose a movie, and I'll get us some ice cream."

She stays on the floor a moment, watching her daughter disappear into the office, and then Kate gets to her feet with a groan and sets Baudelaire down on the couch, heading for the kitchen to rummage through the freezer. Her husband made it a rule that there must never be less than three different types of ice cream in the house at one time and she rolls her eyes when she tugs open the top drawer and finds five cartons.

"Bea, honey, what kind of ice cream do you want?" she calls through, and her daughter pokes her head around the door of the office.

Since she was a girl, their daughter has hated to have her hair spilling into her face, and she has it caught in a knot at the nape of her neck now. "Have we got honeycomb? I want that, and strawberry."

"Coming right up," Kate says, serving the ice cream into a bowl for her daughter, and scooping herself some potato chip fudge. The first time she tried it was just a few weeks before she found out she was pregnant with Jack, and for most of the first trimester it was one of the only things she could stomach.

It always makes her feel a little wistful whenever she eats it now, aching for that time again. How excited she and Rick were, how much her love for him grew in those months.

Shaking her head at herself, Kate heads to the couch and sets their bowls down on the end table, leaves them there while she goes in search of her daughter. "You wanna hang up the shower curtain and I'll set up the projector?"

"Yeah," Bea says, setting the DVD case down on the desk and coming to meet Kate in the entryway. Both arms wrap around her stomach and she tucks her head underneath her mother's chin, her eyelashes brushing Kate's neck. "Thanks, Mama."

"I love you, Little Bean," Kate murmurs against the crown of her daughter's head, that old childhood nickname coming easily again, and she lets the girl have another moment of melancholy before she eases out of Beatrice's arms. "Now, come on, Baudelaire is keeping the couch warm for us, but if we let him get too comfortable he might not be willing to make room."

* * *

 **Tumblr:** katiehoughton

 **Twitter:** seilleanmor


	2. Magnet

**Magnet**

* * *

"Mommy!" their son screams, and Castle jerks away from his wife, dropping his hand from the curve of her waist.

When she came home from work he had been rocking their daughter over by the window, holding the cold teething ring for her to gum at. Beatrice has been grizzly all day, thrashing in his arms, but the moment she caught sight of her mother she sagged against his chest and grinned wide at her.

He'd followed her into their bedroom, one arm under the baby's butt to keep her against him while the other looped around his wife's waist and drew her in for a kiss. Entirely forgetting that somebody needs to watch over their son.

At Jack's scream, Kate stumbles through towards Castle's office and goes to her knees next to their little boy, Rick right behind her with both arms tight around their daughter. Their son is surrounded by little metal balls and Kate grunts, has to brush some of them out from under her legs.

"Jackson. What happened?" Kate says softly, gathering their son up into her lap when he reaches for her.

Head resting heavy against his mother's shoulder, Jack makes a pitiful little noise and screws his eyes closed. "I wanted to play. They falled on me."

"You wanted to play with Daddy's magnets?" Kate asks, bouncing her knees underneath their boy in an effort to jostle him right out of his funk. "They were on a high shelf, buddy. How did you reach them?"

Jack peeks at his father from over Kate's shoulder and Rick smiles encouragingly at his son. "It's okay, my man. Just be honest with Mommy."

"I did climb the shelves," Jackson admits, burying his face in both hands and butting his head against Kate's chest, hard enough to make her huff a breath.

"You could have gotten really hurt, Jack," Kate says, easing their son away from her body so that she can look at his face.

In Castle's arms, his youngest daughter wails and scrunches her face up, rubbing at her ear, and he lifts her against his chest and bounces her gently, murmuring soothing words into her cheek. He should change the teething rings over, give Beatrice the colder one from the refrigerator, but he doesn't want to leave his wife alone in dealing with Jack.

"I sorry, Mama," their son whispers, bottom lip trembling, and he throws his arms around her neck, little legs circling her waist. "I not mean to make a mess."

"I know you didn't, my little adventurer," Kate murmurs against the crown of their son's head, sharing a glance with Rick and wrinkling her nose in sympathy with their grizzly baby girl. "But we talked about this before. It's okay if you want to do fun stuff like climbing, but you have to make sure that Mommy or Daddy is there to make sure you don't get hurt."

"You was busy," Jack says accusingly, kicking a socked foot in the general direction of his little sister and scowling when she laughs at him. "All day Daddy did not even play with me one time. Him was too busy with mine sister."

Castle winces at that and offers Beatrice to his wife, trading kids with her and wrapping his arms tight around their son, squeezing until he huffs a breath of laughter. "I know, my man. I haven't been a very good daddy to you today, have I? Beatrice isn't feeling so good, and she needs lots of cuddles, but that's not fair to you."

He's never had to do this before, was able to devote himself entirely to his eldest child as she grew up. Alexis never had to fight for his attention, never acted out because her feelings were hurt, and even with his partner beside him in this Rick is struggling to get the balance right. Make sure that both of his kids are safe and happy.

"I have an idea," Kate says, one hand cupping the back of the baby's skull as Bea scrubs her face against the material of her mother's shirt, her grumping starting to swell into real cries. "I'm gonna give Beatrice her bath and see if I can get her to go to sleep. You help Daddy rebuild his magnet toy, and when Little Bean goes to sleep Daddy and I will both be there for story time."

"Okay Mommy," Jack says, wriggling his way out of Castle's grip and toddling over to his mother, pressing a wet kiss to her cheek. There's a glistening patch when he pulls away, but Kate only smiles and kisses their son right back, on the tip of his nose to make him giggle.

Kate gets to her feet and pads out of the room, already murmuring that magical combination of nonsense words and soothing sounds that always seems to calm their baby girl, and Rick turns back to his son's expectant little face turned up towards his.

Glancing around at the mess on the floor he suppresses a groan, hooking an arm around his son's shoulders and reeling him in for a kiss to the temple, and then a thought chews away at his brain and his spine snaps straight, his face transforming with horror.

"Jackson, listen very carefully. It's really important that you tell Daddy the truth, okay?"

"Yes Daddy," Jack says, dropping heavily to sit on his butt and sticking his legs straight out in front of himself, scooping some of the magnetic balls in close.

Scraping a hand over his face, Rick shoots a quick prayer up to whoever might be listening before he shifts to his knees and finds his son's eyes. "Jack, buddy, did you eat any of these?"

"Eat them?" their son cackles, throwing his head back, and then he swats at Rick's chest the way he must have seen his mother do countless times. "Don't be silly, Daddy. Them are not food."

"Right," Castle sags back onto his heels. "Good boy."


	3. Bless

**Bless**

* * *

After the fourteenth sneeze in a row, Kate sets her wooden spoon carefully down on top of a little ceramic dish, so as not to dirty the countertop, and pads through to their bedroom. Her husband is in the middle of the bed, propped against the headboard, and an entire box worth of tissues is crumpled up and scattered around him.

"This sucks," he moans, scrunching his eyes closed and freeing a hand from the sheets to reach for her. Kate goes, lacing their fingers together and sinking to sit sideways on the bed, and Castle makes a pitiful little noise and topples sideways into her. "Were you singing just now?"

"Yeah," she flushes, carding the fingers of her free hand through his hair. Dropping down, she touches her thumb to his chin and leans in, a kiss to his temple that encourages the bloom of a smile at his mouth, finally.

It's just a head cold, but it's a pretty rough one and Castle has been miserable for days. He's needy when he's sick, wants her close by at all times, and Kate has taken a handful of days off from work to be here with him.

The boys laughed at her, teased her about her third child at home and why exactly can't Castle handle a measly cold on his own, but she had waved a hand in dismissal as she strode towards the elevator, secretly thrilled to have this opportunity, to spend time with her husband.

"Were you singing-" he pauses to cough, his mouth round as a fish and his eyes watering. Kate rests a palm between the wings of his shoulder blades and rubs gently, eases him back against the pillows when the coughing fit subsides. "About making soup for me?"

"Yes," she admits, bringing her legs up onto the bed and curling in close against her partner, nose to his throat. The chuckle that escapes him makes his whole chest vibrate and he beams at her, drops a clumsy kiss to the crown of her head.

"Good job the kids aren't here. They'd roast you."

Wincing just at the though, Kate straightens up and pushes his hair back out of his face, fingertips flirting with the grey at his temples. "You're right, they would. But it's only you here, and I think we're way past the point of hiding our inner dork from each other, aren't we?"

" _HIja'_ ," he grins, so pleased with himself, and Kate rolls her eyes and nudges at his chest to get him to lay back down again.

Another sneeze attack takes hold of him and Kate shifts away just a little. It's probably far too late, but she'd like to avoid contracting this thing from him if at all possible. When he manages to catch his breath, Rick reaches for the tissue box and pushes his fingers down inside it, scratching his nails against the cardboard and pouting at her.

"Alright, alright," she sighs at him, heading to the bathroom to collect another box of tissues from the cabinet and bring them back to him. Kate breaks the plastic seal and pulls the first one free, handing it over to her husband and setting the box down in her lap.

When he's done blowing his nose he sniffles at her, eyes watery and bloodshot, and Kate pulls open the drawer of her nightstand and rummages inside, coming back with some Vaseline and a couple of Q-tips. Dabbing one end of the cotton swab into the petroleum jelly, she touches two fingers to her husband's chin to tilt his face up towards her and applies a little of the Vaseline to his nostrils.

"There, that'll soothe them a little bit."

"Thanks, Kate," he smiles for her, taking the Q-tip and tossing it across the room, landing it perfectly in the trash can. "What soup are you making?"

Kate puts the Vaseline back in her nightstand drawer and shifts on the bed, nudging closer until she can touch a kiss to the skin of his bicep where it peeks out from under his pajama shirt. "It's chicken noodle. And Bea said she'd stop by later and bring you something to cheer you up."

His mouth opens to reply but he sneezes instead, head snapping forward violently with each one, and when he's done Kate gives him a sympathetic smile, eases an arm around his shoulders to draw him in close and have him lean against her chest. "Bless you."

"I hate this," he groans, scrunching his face up and turning his head until his nose meets the fabric of her shirt. "When will I get better?"

"Soon, I hope," she hums, sifting her fingers through his hair and arranging them so that the pillows take some of his weight, stop the dead mass of his body from crushing her. "I hate seeing you miserable."

"M-not miserable," he says, a yawn cleaving his face in two, and she wonders if he'll even manage to stay awake long enough to eat some soup. "You're here."

Kate brings her other arm around him, curls her fingers at his bicep, and she nuzzles her nose against his hairline where he's a little clammy, a little gross. "I'm here. You're gonna be fine, babe. It's just a cold. You'll feel better in a couple of days, I'm sure."

"I know," he grumps, sagging a little more heavily against her. "But I want to be better now."

The timer shrills its insistent cry from the kitchen and Kate untangles herself from her husband and gets out of bed, pausing to lean back in and kiss his cheek before she heads for the doorway. "That's your soup. Be right back."

"Kate?" he lifts his head from the pillow to look at her. " _qamuSHa'_."

"Can we please instigate a no more Klingon policy?" she laughs, shaking her head at him and pausing to prop her hip against the doorframe. "But yes. I love you too, Rick."


	4. Accidental

**Accidental**

* * *

"Okay Jack," Kate says, crouching down in the middle of the store and planting her hands at her son's shoulders, meeting his eyes. "Listen. It's really busy in here, sweet boy, so I need you to stick close to Mommy. I don't want to lose you."

"I'll hold your hand, Mama," her son beams, offering his little fingers to Kate and she tucks them up against her palm, her free hand descending to the curve of his skull to draw him out of the path of people weaving their way between the shelves.

Getting to her feet again, Kate keeps a tight hold of her son's hand and begins to work her way along the aisles, slowly so that Jack can look at all of the things he wants to see. "Do you remember who we need to get gifts for today?"

"Bea and Daddy!" her son shrieks and Kate laughs, glancing around to make sure that they're not offending the delicate sensibilities of anyone nearby. Both her kids can be wild - they take after their father that way - and more than once Kate has had to shield them from the scowling of some miserable hag.

"That's right," she says, ruffling her son's hair just to make him growl and push her hand away. "And remember what we said? We can't tell them what we choose, we have to wait until Christmas morning and then we get to see their happy faces when they're surprised."

Jack turns a grin up to her, bouncing where he stands, and she wonders how it's possible for his little body to even contain so much excitement. "They will smile _so big_ , Mommy."

"They will," she agrees, and her son wraps one arm around her leg and rests his head to her thigh, squeezing as tight as he can. "Do you see anything you think they'll like?"

Scrunching his eyes half-closed, Jack gives their surroundings a slow surveillance and then he gasps, tugging on her arm and barrelling his way down between the shelves. "Snow globes, Mama!"

"I see them," Kate scoops her son into her arms so that he can look at the rows of snow globes. Most of them are a little too kitschy for her taste, aimed more at the tourists that swarm to the city, but her son is fascinated. "You wanna shake one, baby?"

It's a little tricky to do with one arm around her son, but Kate manages to extract one of the globes from the shelf and pass it over to Jack, let him tip it upside down and then right it again so that the snow falls down over the New York skyline.

"It's pretty," he breathes, nudging his forehead into his mother's temple and clutching the globe tight in both hands, his eyes wide.

"It is lovely, isn't it?" Kate hums back to him, making a mental note to ask her husband to pick one up for their son when he does his own shopping trip next week. He volunteered to take Beatrice, and Kate isn't sure how much progress he'll really be able to make with their three year old tugging on his sleeve, but she didn't argue. "Would you like to get one of these for your sister?"

Jack thinks a moment, his face all scrunched up, and then he nods and a little peal of laughter escapes him. It only lasts a second and then his face falls, a frown puckering at his forehead. "What if she breaks it, Mama? She is still only a baby."

"We can put it on top of her bookshelf, where she won't be able to reach by herself. Don't worry, my sweet boy," she murmurs to him, easing the globe out of his grip and setting it back on the shelf. "Choose one you think she'll love."

"This one," he says, reaching for one with a pink base, but his little fingers fumble at the glass and as he gets it free from the shelf it slips from his grip and goes crashing to the floor, shattering with a noise so loud that Kate feels the eyes of the whole store on her.

Immediately, her son wails and throws himself against her, face buried in the crease of her neck. She can feel hot tears there and she gets her other arm around him, rocking him like she used to when he was an infant and murmuring soothing words against the shell of his ear.

"It's okay, baby. You're okay."

"I didn't mean to break it, Mommy," he sobs, lifting his heavy head to look at her, and Kate kisses the tears right off his cheeks, dusts a kiss to the tip of his nose that makes him crack on a smile.

Setting her son down, Kate gets to her knees next to him and sweeps up the glass into a little pile, taking the sweeper and dustpan that one of the retail assistants offers her. "It's okay, buddy. I know you didn't mean to. And look, we'll clean it up, and we'll pay for the damage. Nobody got hurt, okay? It was just an accident."

"Escuse me," Jack says to the teenage boy in the store uniform who hovers close by, waiting to take the dustpan back from Kate. "I'm sorry I broke it."

"That's okay kid. No harm done," he shrugs, and Kate offers him a grateful smile and gets to her feet again, one hand at the back of Jack's head.

Glancing down at her son, she grins at him and tugs on his earlobe until he shakes his way out of his misery. Satisfied, she turns back to the sales assistant and hands him the dustpan, the corners of her mouth turned down in apology. "Sorry about that. We'll pay for the damage. And for another one."

"No problem, lady," the kid says, reaching for another of the snow globes from the shelf. "But maybe I should carry this one for you."


	5. Owl

**Owl**

* * *

"You okay?" he murmurs to her, sliding his arms around her waist and splaying a wide palm low down at her stomach. Her belly is rounding out a little now, and Castle's hands are drawn to the nudge of life that fills his palm.

Turning over her shoulder to see him, Kate nudges her nose into his cheek and brushes a kiss to the corner of his mouth, letting her body sag back against him. "A little nauseous. And you know how pregnancy is for me. Turns me into a night owl."

"I had forgotten," he admits, sliding his hand underneath her pajama shirt now to feel the warmth of her bare skin. This second pregnancy has been a little easier on her, less sickness, but she can only manage to sleep for a handful of hours before she wrenches awake again. "Want some tea?"

"No thanks," she hums, turning to face away from the window and sliding her arms tight around him. Kate tucks her fingertips into the waistband of his pajama pants and he yelps, wriggling under the ice of her touch.

The baby monitor in his pocket weighs his pants, makes them gape at his spine and he pulls it free and sets it on the dining room table, the omniscient red eye blinking slowly at them. His wife is drowsy, and he knows it makes her miserable that her body won't let her sleep, so he settles his palm between her shoulder blades and hopes the pressure can soothe her the way it does their son.

Kate shivers, a chill rolling off the window and coating them both, and he tangles his fingers with hers to guide her over to the couch, leaves her there a moment to go in search of that ridiculous throw of his mother's, the faux fur so thick and soft.

He comes back and squeezes his way in behind Kate on the couch, drawing her body back against his and snapping his wrists to let the blanket billow out, settling it over both of them. She curls up small, tipping sideways, and her jaw cracks wide on a yawn.

"Comfortable?" he murmurs to her, wrapping his arm tight around her waist, and Kate settles her fingers at his wrist and nuzzles his neck, her lips forming a kiss at his throat.

"I just want to sleep," she whines, drawing her knees up until they rest against his sternum, her whole body small and secure in his grip. "Castle, I hate this. I'm barely scraping together the energy to make it through my day at work, and I have nothing left for you or for Jack when I get home."

Rick cards his fingers through his wife's hair, arranging the ends against her shoulder and brushing a kiss to her temple. "It's okay, Kate. You're growing a life inside you. I'm sure everybody understands that."

"Our son doesn't," she says bitterly, shame making her turn her face into his chest. "He's only fourteen months old, Castle. How can he possibly understand why Mommy is too tired to play dinosaurs with him."

"Oh, Kate," he soothes, heart cracking in his chest at the anguish that rolls through his wife, the salt-slick warmth that soaks through his shirt and makes his skin pull tight. "Sweetheart, Jack adores you. He's perfectly happy to curl up and nap with you, or watch a movie. All he wants is to spend time with his mother, you know that."

Kate chokes out a sob and fists a hand in the material of his pajama shirt, grief making her body heavy against him. "I just want to be a good mom to him."

"Hey," he soothes, brushing the hair back out of her face so that he can see her a little better. The way she's cowering from the world against his chest leaves him with only a shard of her cheek, one slow-blinking eye, but it's enough for him to smooth his thumb over her skin. "You're the best possible mother that Jack could ask for. And every day, I'm so grateful that I get to watch you interact with him, that I get to see how happy our little boy is."

"I'm only upset because I'm tired," she grumps, scrunching her face up in a spot-on imitation of their son, and Castle can't help but chuckle.

It makes her body bounce against his chest and a smile finally blooms at one corner of her mouth, a giggle escaping her as she clings to him. Settling again, Castle lets his hand stroke up and down the length of his wife's spine. "If your pregnancy with Jack is any indication, it should only be another couple of months of this."

"I can't survive another two months," she wails, her whole face crumpling, and Rick gathers her up close and rocks her, murmuring nonsense against her ear. "Castle, I just want to sleep."

"I know you do baby," he soothes, shifting down the couch a little until he's flat on his back and Kate's body is draped over him, her legs nestled between his. "I know. Close your eyes, come on."

She does, lashes brushing his neck, and he arranges her body on top of his until her elbow isn't digging quite so sharply into the soft spot under his ribs. Tugging the blanket up over her, he snakes a hand down to her stomach and flutters his fingers there, greeting their baby. "Now listen here, little one. Your mommy is amazing, and she's the best mommy you could ask for, but you need to let her get some sleep, okay?"

"Castle," his wife laughs, nudging her head into his chin. "I'm not sure the baby can hear you yet."

"Sure she can," he huffs, thumb stroking underneath his wife's navel. "Now, baby girl, do we have a deal? Are you gonna let Mommy sleep?"

He glances down at his wife, but her face is already slack.


	6. Harmless

**Harmless**

* * *

Castle is just putting the finishing touches to his chapter when his son comes barrelling through the door and dumps his backpack in the armchair, shedding his coat as well. "Hi Dad."

"Hey," Rick says, hitting the keyboard shortcut to save his document and closing his laptop, pushing his chair back away from the desk to open himself up to whatever it is Jackson wants to talk to him about. Usually their son heads straight for the refrigerator when he gets home from school, grazes for a while, so the fact that his father is his first stop clues Castle in. "What's going on?"

"I tried out for the football team today."

"You did?" Rick says, and his son settles to sit on the arm of the chair. Over the summer their son grew several inches, his shoulders broadening out, and suddenly his love of football became a love of getting right into the scrum of it.

It makes Kate scowl from the bleachers, has her muttering about the Becketts being a baseball family, and more than once Castle has had to jostle her into smiling, force her to muster up some happiness for their son.

"I did. And I got in," Jack beams, pride shaving years off him, and suddenly all Rick sees is that little boy who grinned so wide and couldn't keep still, joy filling him up whenever he hit another milestone. His heart aches for those days, for the little ones who snuggled in close to his chest and needed him to heal their hurts.

"Congratulations, buddy. That's fantastic!" Rick says, plucking enthusiasm from the depths of his stomach. Kate worries about Jack's love of football, fretting and nibbling at her lip every time he makes contact with another player, and Castle isn't exactly inclined to disagree with her. It's a dangerous sport, and he hates that every time their son steps onto the field there's so much risk involved, so many unpredictable elements.

The way Jack's whole body comes alive with exhilaration, and the fact that their son is _good_ , keeps Castle's mouth firmly closed.

"Mom's gonna be mad," Jack huffs, sliding down from the arm of the chair to sit in it properly and reaching behind himself, tugging his backpack out from under his butt. "She hates that I play."

"No she doesn't," Castle blurts, although he's not entirely sure that it's true. "She just hates that there's so much risk involved. She doesn't want to see you get hurt."

Rolling his eyes in a near-perfect imitation of his mother, Jack lets his head thud against the back of the chair and brings one foot up, straightening his sock where it's gotten twisted around. "I won't get hurt. Coach drills safety into us all the time. If anybody does anything dangerous, takes unnecessary risk, he reams them out, Dad."

"I know, kiddo," Rick says, his bones aching from too long in his desk chair, and he stands up and comes to sit in the other armchair next to his son, his body creaking like an old ship. "But she's your mother. She loves you and your sister more than anything in the world, and she can't help but worry about you."

"Bran's mom won't even let him try out," Jack admits, his face scrunching up as he chews on that. "I guess I'm pretty lucky."

That makes Castle laugh, remembering how ferocious his wife can get if either of their kids is hurting or afraid. Teeth straight to the jugular, and it stirs things in his gut to see how eager Kate is to protect them both. "Jack, my man, you have no idea how lucky you are to have Mom. Trust me. I mean, think about your sister."

"Bea?" Jackson asks, furrowing his brows at Rick and scratching at his jaw. He just started shaving a few weeks ago - Kate had choked back tears and mourned the loss of her baby boy - and Jack is still getting used to the itch of the regrowth.

"No, not Beatrice. Alexis. She grew up with Meredith as her mother. So count your blessings, son."

"Right," Jackson winces. Castle's two younger children don't know Meredith all that well, have only met her a handful of times, but it's enough for them to know just how different Rick's first wife is to their own mother. "Yeah. Good point. Wow, I kinda wanna give Mom a hug now."

The dog comes into the office and butts his head against Rick's thigh until he scratches behind Baudelaire's ears. The loss of Snicket last year had been devastating to both of their kids, and he and Kate had hurried to find a new dog, adopting Baudelaire from a shelter. He was four years old when he came home with them, so they got to skip right over the stress of puppyhood and bring home a dog who is so grateful to have a family and a warm place to rest.

"You should definitely give Mom a hug. Before you break the news to her," Castle says, a wry grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. He knows that Kate isn't going to be happy, and he's already plotting the exact amount of candles and just the right bubble bar that will make his wife dissolve into the bathtub and let go of her worries.

"You guys will come to my games, right? Even though you hate it."

"Hey, we don't hate it," Rick says, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. "We just don't want to see you get hurt. But Mom and I will be there to cheer for you every game, I promise. We are so proud of you."

Jack grins at that, a dimple forming in one cheek, and Rick can't help but laugh. Both of their kids got all of his wife's looks, and now that Jack is also on the football team he braces for the influx of smitten teenage girls at their door.


	7. Blimp

**Blimp**

* * *

The spill of Alexis' hair is the first thing to capture their attention, sunlight glancing off the brilliant spill of it as Rick's oldest daughter turns her head, and Kate lifts onto tiptoe and waves a hand at Alexis. Eli is beside her with the stroller, Harry strapped tight inside and gumming away at a toy, and Jack races up to his nephew and bends over to see him, pulling goofy faces that make the baby shriek with joy.

"Hey Dad," Alexis says, accepting a one-armed hug from her father. Castle's got Bea perched on his shoulders, their daughter drumming her feet against him and fisting her hands in his hair, and he winces as she yanks.

"Alexis!" Bea shrieks at her sister, and Castle's older daughter turns her face up towards his youngest with a smile. "It's my birthday. I am _five_."

That makes them all laugh and Alexis tugs on one of Bea's tiny feet. "I know, baby girl. You're so big now!"

"Bea," Kate hums, reaching up with one hand to uncurl her daughter's little fists. The other stays tight around the end of Snicket's leash, but the dog seems more interested in sniffing at the stroller than trying to bolt. "How about you come down now and go say hello to Harry?"

Their little girl falls backwards into Kate's arms and she sets Bea on her feet, hooking her arm through Castle's to watch their daughter run over to her brother and her nephew. Beatrice's tights are starting to come down, sagging to her knees, but it's useless to try and corral her until she comes to Kate under her own steam and asks for help.

"Hi honey," Kate grins when Alexis wraps her arms around Beckett and squeezes tight. She dusts a kiss to Alexis' cheek, Castle's joyful little noise in her ear making her scrabble for his hand and lace their fingers. "How are you guys?"

"We're great," Alexis says brightly, turning her head a moment to look at her husband and baby son. It was nearly seven years ago now that Kate was in that very same position, and her heart aches for the sleepy body of her baby boy in her arms. "He's getting better at sleeping through the night, and we started letting him hold the spoon himself when he has his food. He's been more willing to take it that way."

Castle untangles himself from Kate to wrap an arm around his daughter's shoulders as they walk down the path, stumbling a little when Snicket tries to weave between his legs. Pushing the button to give the dog's leash a little less slack, Kate gives him the firm command to heel and he settles down a little, comes to trot along next to Kate's legs.

"Pumpkin, that's fantastic. I'm so glad things are getting easier."

"Yeah," Alexis laughs, raking a hand through her hair. She just got it cut short a few weeks ago, Harry's insistent hands grabbing at the long strands every time he got the chance, and now it falls just past her shoulders. "It's been tough. I wanted to say thank you to you both for being so forthcoming with your advice. Especially you, Kate."

"Hey," Rick grumps, his bottom lip swelling into a pout, and Kate shakes her head on a laugh as she comes in to kiss his melodrama clean away. "What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying Kate is better at advice than your own dad?"

Alexis rolls her eyes at that, shares a glance with Kate that makes them both laugh, and the excitement makes the dog strain against his harness, almost wrenching Kate's arm clean out of its socket in his haste to get to Kate's son.

"Jack, buddy," Kate calls, and their gangly boy comes away from the stroller to his mother's side. "Would you take your dog, please?"

She's careful to make sure their son has his fingers tight around the leash before she lets go, and then Jack bounds off back to Alexis' husband. There's a low drone just above them and all three of them crane their necks, Castle's hand falling to the flare of Kate's hips as if to keep his balance.

A blimp makes its lazy way over their heads and Rick huffs a laugh, reaching for Kate's hand. "I should have hired one of those with a birthday message for Bea, don't you think?"

"I think her ego has had plenty of feeding today," Kate laughs, arranging her hand more comfortable in her husband's grip. On his other side, Alexis hooks her arm through her father's, and Kate feels the little shiver of pleasure that works its way through him.

She knows it's hard on him, not having all three of his kids around him every day, and that it sets his heart at ease whenever they spend time with Alexis and her family. Castle loves being a grandfather, doting on Harry, and Kate nudges her elbow into his. "Go see your grandson, babe. I know you want snuggles."

"I really do," he admits, untangling himself from them and jogging a little way down the path until he meets the rest of their family.

Kate hooks her arm through Alexis' and bends her head towards Castle's daughter, so full up with joy to have her here. "I'm really glad things are getting easier for you."

"I'm not sure I could have made it here without you," Alexis admits, laying her head against Beckett's shoulder for just a moment as they walk.

More than once, Kate has answered the phone in the middle of the night to Castle's daughter's panic, tears clogging her throat as she pleaded with Kate to tell her what she was doing wrong. A couple of times, Beckett has hastily dressed and crossed town, gone to be with Alexis in person to stroke her hair and reassure her that she wasn't failing as a mother.

"It's what families do."


	8. Battleground

**Battleground**

* * *

His home is as still as the grave when Jack slips through the front door and it sends a tremor racing down the column of his spine. For as long as he can remember, the loft has spilled over with noise and laughter, and to see it in darkness now is unsettling.

Baudelaire heaves himself up from his bed and comes to butt his head against Jack's thigh; sinking into a crouch, he scratches behind the dog's ears, lets Baudelaire lick at the inside of his wrist.

There's a piece of paper tucked underneath the dog's collar and Jack pulls it free, getting to his feet again and unfolding the post-it note. He texted his sister earlier and she told him she was out to dinner with their parents, so he's not sure what's going on here.

"Suit up?" he reads aloud, the first clutching of adrenaline taking hold of him. Thin fingers wrap around his throat and his gaze darts around the living space of the loft, landing on his old laser tag vest on top of the counter.

Jack strides over to the kitchen and tugs the vest over his head, tugging the straps tight. He has no idea where his sister is, but all the hairs at the back of his neck prickle and he feels a little sick with tension.

A voice hisses his name and he jerks, hurries around the counter to find his mother crouching down behind the island, her own vest flashing its circular pattern. Mom tugs on his arm and he goes to his knees beside her, careful to keep his voice low.

"What's going on?"

"We're battling," his mother laughs, poking his thigh with the barrel of her gun. "You and me versus Dad and your sister."

Jack shifts his weight and lets his finger curl around the trigger of the laser gun, childish exhilaration filling him up, and he hooks an arm around his mother's neck in an awkward, sideways hug. "Best welcome home ever."

"Don't hug me," his mother grumps at him, nudging an elbow into his side. "It's a distraction. We need to win. Otherwise we'll have to deal with Dad's gloating."

"Oh," Jack deflates, contorting his face into a grimace. His father loves to win, loves to lord his victory over them all, and Beatrice is just as bad. So if their team wins, his entire spring break will be insufferable. "Do we have a plan?"

Right as Mom opens her mouth to respond, there's a creak on the other side of the counter and they both freeze, heads turning in unison to listen for it again. Jack recognises the distribution of weight, the low groan of the hardwood, and he leaps to his feet and angles his gun over the top of a counter, gets a shot off square in the centre of his sister's vest as she crawls across the floor.

"Bea!" Dad's voice comes next, from over by the couch, and Jack drops heavily to the floor again in case either one of them manages to shoot him.

"Jackson," his mother says in her cop voice, and he grins. When they were very little, he and Beatrice clamoured to know everything about Mommy's work, demanded that she teach them all the police lingo, and it really does come in handy now. "On my count, we break for the stairs."

"I've got your six, Mom," he whispers back to her, sharing a grin with his mother, and she nods her head before they run for the stairs, Jack moving backwards to keep his gun trained on the living area.

The battle rages for over an hour, and Jack and his mother come out victorious, yelling in triumph as they take Bea and then Dad down in tandem. The commotion makes the dog skip around their feet, his tail wagging ferociously as if he's forgotten that he's old and weary, and Bea scoops him up and carries him over to the couch with her, grumbling into his fur.

Mom and Dad are murmuring together in soft voices, Jack's mother saying something low and soothing and splaying a palm at Dad's cheek, leaning in to kiss him. It makes Jackson wrinkle his nose and he bolts for the couch to flop down dramatically next to his sister.

"We should have done us versus the old folks. We would have destroyed them."

"You're joking, right?" Bea huffs, manoeuvring the dog where he's got one paw braced against her ribcage. "Are you forgetting that Mom and Dad worked together at the precinct every day until you were born? You know how good they are as a team. They'd crush us."

Pride makes him snort and he shucks his way out of his vest, leaves it on the coffee table. "Nah. We've got youth on our side. I think we could take them."

"Who?" Dad says from over the back of the couch, coming around with a bunch of ice cream cartons in his arms. Mom is right behind him with bowls and spoons and she sets everything down on the table next to Jack's vest, coming to squeeze her way in between her son and daughter. "Mom and me? Not a chance. We're Castle and Beckett. We've taken down serial killers, you know. Our own kids? Easy."

"Really, Daddy?" Bea says, letting her bottom lip jut out and batting her eyes at her father when he sinks to sit in the armchair. "You'd really shoot me? Your own baby girl."

"Oh, don't be cute," he grumbles, waving a hand at her, and he reaches for the carton of potato chip fudge and spoons some of it out into a bowl, handing it over to Mom. "Here honey. Celebrate your victory."

Mom sets the bowl in her lap, but she has an arm around each of their shoulders and she squeezes tight, laying her head against Beatrice's.

"Give me a minute to enjoy this. My whole family are home."


	9. Humility

**Humility**

* * *

"Mr Castle," the principal's voice comes over the phone, and he gulps. Casting a glance towards the living area, he sees that both of his kids are engrossed in something on the iPad, sitting nicely together for once, and he spins around in his desk chair to face the painting on the back wall.

"Principal Ruiz, lovely to hear from you. I hope you're well."

There's a pause, as if she wasn't quite expecting such a warm response, and Rick lets a smug grin stretch across his mouth for a moment. Principal Ruiz clears her throat, her voice firm and sure just as it was when they met ten years ago.

"I'm well, thank you Mr Castle. I'm calling because both of your children's teachers have approached me with. . .some concerns."

"Oh?" he sits up a little straighter in his chair, wishing his wife were home already so she could weigh in on this. He's not so great at discipline, didn't exactly get in much practice when Alexis was growing up, and he looks to Kate for guidance in treating their kids with a firm, fair hand.

And, well, most of the people they come across as parents are a little bit afraid of Beckett, far more likely to listen to their side of things when it comes from her.

"Yes. Apparently Jackson and Beatrice have both been displaying some arrogance, this past week. Telling the other children that their father is rich and famous, and that makes them better than the others. It's been upsetting some of their more sensitive classmates."

"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that," he says, wincing a little.

Last week, Jackson had asked him about the Poe's Pen trophy that sits on his desk. The kids know that he's a writer, of course, that writing is Daddy's job like chasing bad guys is Mommy's, but they've never really understood his success. He and Kate have managed to keep them well shielded from the press, and as a result they had no idea that he's famous until he explained what the award was for, why he received it.

They'd been interested, both bubbling over with questions about the famous people he's met and has he ever been on TV, and he and Kate had been as truthful as they'd felt appropriate. He had no idea that it had given either one of them a superiority complex.

"If you would, Mr Castle, have a talk with them. Perhaps explain the concept of humility?"

"Of course," he says, his face aflame. "I'll speak to them. I'm really sorry about this, Mrs Ruiz. Kate and I had no idea."

He can hear her smile over the phone, and all over again he's grateful that his kids' education is being shaped by this woman. Even if she does till bear a teeny, tiny grudge against him. "Thank you for understanding, Mr Castle. Have a good evening."

"You too," he says, and then there's a click as the line goes dead. He gives himself a moment to let shame wash over him, and then Rick sets his phone down and heads for the living room, for his kids. The dog is on the couch with them, his head resting in Jack's lap, and Castle winces.

Kate's fighting a losing battle, there. The rest of them can't resist letting Snicket join in with family snuggles, and he's noticed that lately his wife has been more inclined to grumble and roll her eyes but let the dog stay where he is.

Going to his knees in front of his children, Rick takes the iPad and closes the cover over it, reaching behind himself to set it on the coffee table. "Hey guys. The principal of your school just called me."

"She did?" Jack whispers, sharing a panicked glance with his sister, and Bea's face pinches tight with apprehension.

"She did," Rick says. He remembers the way his mother used to make him squirm where he stood, dragging it out, and he doesn't want to do that to them. "She said that you two have been bragging in class about Daddy being famous. That you told some of the other children that you're better than them."

"But Daddy," Beatrice wails, beating her heels against the couch cushion. "You are better. You won the trophy, that means you're the best."

Raking a hand through his hair, Rick glances towards the front door as if that'll make his wife materialise, huffing a sigh when it doesn't back to face the kids, he gives them a small smile. "You're right. And it's okay to be proud of our achievements, because we've worked hard for them. But it doesn't mean that we're more important than other people."

"I'm proud of you, Dad," Jackson says in a small voice, and Castle has to grit his teeth against the urge to gather the kids up and tell them to forget he said anything at all.

"And I'm so happy that you are," he says instead, wrapping a hand around his son's foot and squeezing. "I'm proud of you both, because you're kind and you try hard at school, but it's very important not to be a show off, alright? It makes the people around you feel sad, and like they're not special."

Beatrice huffs at that, folding her arms across her chest. "I bet their daddies didn't win any awards."

"Maybe not, baby girl. But their daddy might be a really good cook, or the best at video games. Everybody has something that makes them special, but you have to remember that nobody is more important than somebody else. Everybody matters, every life is equally important."

"Except Mommy," Bea says, smiling wide just at the mention of her mother. "Mommy is the most special in the world."

"In the universe," Jack pipes up.

Groaning, Castle buries his face in his hands, not sure his message has really gotten through. But then again, he doesn't exactly disagree.


	10. Devout

**A/N:** This one deals with Kate's struggles after Castle's death. If that's not your thing, feel free to skip it.

* * *

 **Devout**

* * *

"Mama," her daughter says softly, coming to sit with Kate on the couch and folding her legs underneath herself. Bea reaches for her mother's hand and enfolds it in both of hers, dark eyes so serious. "Jack and I were talking."

"That's never good," Kate huffs, curling up a little smaller. The puppy is a wriggling thing in her lap, but she settles a palm at the dog's round little belly and he relaxes, his tail thumping against her thigh.

After they lost Baudelaire, she didn't imagine they would get another dog, but the loft is so quiet these days. Kate pads from room to room, trying to keep herself busy, and when Bea came home with the dog squirming in her arms a few months ago her heart had rolled over in gratitude.

Training him, feeding him, playing with him; all of it gives her back some purpose, fills the loft with noise again. Some days, she even manages to laugh at the puppy's antics. Beatrice named him, as is tradition in their family, and Olaf is just as mischievous as his namesake.

"Jack and I talked," her daughter repeats, reaching out to scratch behind the dog's ears, and he turns his head to lick at Beatrice's palm. "And he wants you to move in with him and Alba."

"In _Florida_?" Kate splutters, already shaking her head. Tension zips through her and the dog cocks his head, one ear folded over and the other sitting straight up as he looks at her. "No. Absolutely not."

Bea squeezes her hand, a little frown puckering at her forehead, and Kate's heart aches for all the time lost. How big her baby girl has gotten, how wise. "Mom, I can't be around as much as I'd like to be. But Jack keeps regular hours, and now with the baby on the way. . .they want you to be close by."

"This is my home," Kate says insistently. The loft hasn't changed much since her first visit, the door swinging open to Castle and Alexis in laser tag gear, Martha with her green face mask. "This place holds so many memories for me, Beatrice."

"I know it does, Mama," her daughter says gently, her eyes filling a little. Bea has always been forthcoming with her emotions, was always the one to pitch a fit when she was a girl, and since she lost her father she's been hovering on the brink of tears semi-permanently. "Daddy's presence is so strong here. Don't you- isn't it upsetting?"

Shaking her head, Kate manages a smile for her little girl. Since Castle died, Bea has been eager to meet her mother outside of the loft, inviting Kate to her own apartment or arranging for them to get dinner together. It's been a while since she's been home.

"No baby. It's not upsetting. It's comforting. This is the home that Dad and I built together. It holds all of my best memories. I don't want to leave that behind."

"Alba doesn't have her parents," Bea reminds her, letting Kate take her hand back. She wraps her fingers around Olaf's little paw, the dog falling asleep in her lap, and she breathes steadily through her guilt. "Mom, she's pregnant, and she only has you to turn to. She wants you close by."

It's not that Kate doesn't _want_ to be around for her grandchild. Only, she and Castle lived in this loft together for thirty six years, and now she feels a tug in her guts that makes her terrified to leave. She spends her days curating the museum of their lives, dusting every memory to preserve it for the future.

"I don't want to leave. The city is my home. This is my home," Kate says quietly, her eyes firmly on the dog so she doesn't have to see Beatrice's messy grief. In the weeks after Castle's death, her daughter stuck close to Kate's side, seeking her out for constant hugs, but it's been months now. Almost a full year, and Bea has started to stiffen away from whatever comfort Kate tries to offer.

"It scares me, Mom," Bea says, swiping at her cheeks, and after a moment she gets herself under control again. "I don't know how you can bear it. This huge place, and only you and Ollie to fill it."

Beckett was always the skeptical one, always the one who had to be coaxed into believing, and she flounders for a moment in search of the right words to explain to her little girl. "It's not only us. I can still feel Dad's presence in every room. He's still with me."

"He's _dead_ , Mama," Beatrice wails, a sob escaping her, and she presses a palm to her mouth. Tears collect along the top of her hand and she turns her head away from her mother, face scrunched up in anguish. "He's dead, but we're not. You have to put us first now, Mom. You have to move on."

It sends a crack splintering through her and Kate chokes on her despair. She doesn't know how to do this, how to carry on with the rest of her life without her husband. "I can't, Bea. I can't. It feels like I'm letting him down every time I dare to smile."

"No," Bea says, horror distorting her face. "You're not letting him down. All Dad ever wanted was for you to be happy. Don't you remember how every day he worked to make you happy?"

"Of course I do. I just don't know how to do it without him."

Bea scrambles for her hand, clutching desperately at it. "You can be happy, Mom. Won't the baby make you happy?"

"Yes. It will. It does."

"So move closer," Bea implores her. "Go be with your family. The baby doesn't get to know Dad, to feel how deeply he loved, so it's your job to show them. It's your job to love them enough for you and for Daddy."


	11. Combatant

**Combatant**

* * *

The baby's screams come around his throat like a fist and wrench him into consciousness, and Castle is out of bed before he's awake. He stumbles and goes down on one knee, the hardwood cracking against his patella and making him hiss through his teeth.

"Bea," his wife gasps from the bed, stumbling right behind him, and they charge up to the nursery together. It's only her second night in her own room, the bassinet moved upstairs from Rick and Kate's room a couple of days ago, and he'd been prepared for this.

Slamming his way into the baby's room, Castle squints against the soft glow of the nightlight on the dresser, and Kate bumps up against his back, her palm coming to his shoulder blade.

Next to the baby's crib, their son stands in his footie pajamas with Beatrice's favourite blanket tight in his little fists. The fog of sleep creeps inside his brain, and Rick can't figure out what's going on here, but Kate moves around him and sinks to her knees in front of their son.

"Jackson," she murmurs, tries to uncurl his fingers from around the blanket, but then their son wails as well, his screaming making the baby cry harder, and he yanks his hands back away from his mother.

"No Mama!" he cries, turning his whole body away from her.

Kate presses the back of her hand to her forehead and sighs, looking up at Castle from her spot on the floor, and he sinks down beside his wife. She topples sideways into him, resting her head against his shoulder, and a little noise of despair escapes her. "I don't know what to do."

"It's okay," he soothes, dusting a kiss to her forehead. Jack is watching them now, peeking around the edge of the bassinet to see his parents, and some childish part of Rick hopes that their son feels guilty for this. His mother, dangling precariously on the edge of tears in the middle of the night, curling up small in Castle's arms. "I'll handle it. You get the baby, see if you can soothe her."

"We need to do this together," Kate says, but she gets to her feet and scoops their screaming daughter out of the bassinet, holding Beatrice close against her chest and murmuring against her ear, bouncing just a little.

Rick shifts and crosses his legs, holds out a hand to his son. "Jack, come here. Come sit with Daddy."

He comes to curl up in Rick's lap, his own face red and blotchy, and he buries his head against Rick's chest. "Dada."

"Don't baby talk, buddy," he says, gentle but firm, and he rests a hand at the curve of Jack's skull. Kate moves to sit in the rocker by the window, the baby starting to settle now that she's in her mother's arms, and Kate watches them over the top of Beatrice's head, her eyes dark. "You're a big brother, now. Bea is gonna learn so much from you, so you have to set a good example."

"I hate her," Jackson yells, scrunching his face up in rage, and Kate's eyes slide closed, her mouth a tightly stitched seam.

Neither of them has a sibling, neither of them knows what they're doing here, and so Castle has to wing it and hope he doesn't irrevocably mess up his son. "Why do you hate her, my man?"

"Mine sister does get all the 'tention," Jack scowls, shooting a glare at the baby. Bea blinks huge eyes at her brother, her mouth in a round little O, but at least Jackson's fit seems to have distracted her right out of her own cries. "All day Mommy and you do hug her and play with her."

It's not entirely true; they've been very careful to make sure Jackson isn't starved of attention, one of them always sure to spend time with their son while the other is busy with the baby. It's usually Rick, because Beatrice needs her mother every few hours for feeding, and now Castle sees what's wrong.

"I play with you, buddy. But that's not what you want, is it? You miss Mommy."

"Yeah," a small voice comes from against Castle's chest, and he sifts his fingers through the sleep-matted thicket of their son's curls. "Mommy is always with mine sister."

Kate makes a strangled noise and gets up from the rocker, setting Bea back down in the bassinet and coming to join Rick and their son on the floor. Scooping Jackson up, Kate wraps both arms around him and squeezes tight, one hand at the back of his head to keep him close against her.

"I'm so sorry, sweet boy. Mama always has time for you, I promise."

"Beckett," Rick says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair back out of his wife's face for her. "Don't blame yourself. We're still figuring out the balance. And we'll start getting her on bottle feeds soon, so you won't have to feed her every time. You'll have more time for the little man."

She manages a smile at that, and while their son is distracted Castle eases the blanket out of his grip and tucks it around their daughter again, leaning in over the bassinet to kiss her cheek. "Sweet dreams, baby girl."

"Let's get you back into bed," Kate is saying to their son, and Castle settles a palm at her elbow to help her to her feet, following her out of the room.

She sets Jack down in his new, big bed and tucks the covers around him, makes sure he's got his favourite teddy close at hand. They both kiss their son's forehead, and then Kate hooks an arm through his and brings him out into the hallway with her.

"I'm failing him," she whispers, and Castle wraps both arms around her and draws her in close, lips to the crown of her head.

"We're gonna figure it out, Kate. I promise."


	12. Spirits

**Spirits**

* * *

It's almost two am when the phone rings and Kate stumbles out of the armchair and into the living room, hoping that the toll of her ringtone hasn't woken up her husband. She promised him she'd join him in bed, would try to get some sleep, but instead she had settled in the study to keep watch.

Kate pushes one arm into the sleeve of her coat, freeing a hand to swipe and answer the call. Trapping her cell phone between shoulder and ear, she pulls her coat on properly and pads through the living room to find her sneakers.

"Beatrice?"

"Mama," her daughter wails over the phone line and Kate tries to pull her shoe on with one hand. "M'drunk. Help me."

Growling through her teeth, Kate sinks to the floor and traps her phone against her ear again, freeing her hands so that she can pull her shoes on properly. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"Guy tried to touch me," Bea says, drunkenness shaving years off her voice, and suddenly she's that tiny girl who curled up small in Kate's arms once again. "Think I broke s'nose."

"Oh honey," Kate has to laugh, covering her mouth with a hand, but it's no use. Her husband appears in their bedroom doorway, sleepy and rumpled, and he scrubs a hand over his face. Castle comes to join her on the floor, a clumsy hand falling to her thigh, and he frowns.

"You didn't come to bed. Didn't even put your PJs on."

Pushing her hair back out of her face, Kate wrinkles her nose at him in apology. "Yeah. I wanted to be here if she needs me. And she does."

"Mom?" Beatrice's voice comes over the phone. "You gonna get me?"

"Yes, baby. I'm on my way. I'm gonna hang up now, sweetheart. You sit tight, and I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

She waits for her daughter to say goodbye and then she hangs up, shoving her phone down into her jacket pocket. Castle gets to his feet and hauls Kate up as well, his face scrunched up in panic. "Let me get dressed, I'm coming with you."

"No," Kate says, her voice firm but gentle, and she lays a palm against his chest. "Babe, I need you to stay here. I don't want to overwhelm her."

"Okay," he grumbles, covering her hand at his chest with his own. "But I'm not going back to bed. I'll make some tea or something. Be safe, Kate."

Kate dusts a kiss to her husband's cheek before she leaves the loft and heads for the elevator, pacing back and forth in the tiny space as it descends to the parking garage. She drives too fast, but the roads are pretty quiet at this time of night.

She practically dumps the car in the middle of the street, only barely tucking it into a parking spot, and Kate waves her badge at the doorman on her way past, running up two flights of stairs. Her daughter is outside the apartment, slumped on the floor with her head in Noah's lap, and he sifts his fingers through her hair.

"Mrs Castle," he gulps, just about managing to meet her eyes. "I am so sorry. I got here a little late, and she'd already had too much to drink. And then I- I just took my eyes off her for a couple of minutes, and some football player tried to force himself on her."

"It's not your fault, Noah," Kate says, sinking to her knees next to the two of them. She touches two fingers to her daughter's shoulder and Bea stirs, wading up out of her fugue state and blinking up at her mother.

She lets Kate get an arm around her waist and help Beatrice to her feet, leaning heavily against her mother's side. "Mom. Don't feel good."

"I know sweetheart," she murmurs, turning back to face Noah a moment. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Oh, no thanks, Mrs Castle. My dad is coming to pick up me and a couple of my friends from the lacrosse team."

"Alright," she smiles at her daughter's boyfriend, and then she begins the awkward production of getting her daughter into the elevator and then back out, through the lobby. She fishes the car keys from her pocket with one hand.

She manages to press the button to unlock the sedan, and then Beatrice wrenches away from her. "Mom," her daughter says, eyes wide, and two seconds later she bends double and empties her stomach into the gutter.

"Okay, you're okay," Kate soothes, rubbing a hand between her daughter's shoulder blades as she heaves. Eventually Bea catches her breath, and Kate pulls the car door open and helps her little girl to climb into the seat and bring her legs around. "Gonna get sick again?"

"Don't think so," Bea whispers, eyes closed and her face mashed against the seat. Kate closes the door and jogs around the front of the car to climb into the driver's seat. She curls a hand around her daughter's knee and Bea's head rolls against the seat until she can see her mother. "Mama. Are you mad?"

Kate huffs a laugh and shakes her head, tucking her daughter's hair back behind her ear. "I'm not mad. I did a lot worse than this when I was your age, only I was never smart enough to call my parents. I usually ended up sitting in the gutter until sunrise."

"Did?"

"Uh-huh," she says, turning the key in the ignition to wake up the engine and pulling the car out of the spot. "I'm not mad, and Dad's not either. We're proud of you that you were smart enough to call us when something went wrong. And honey? I'm really proud that your self-defence training kicked in, too."

"Broke his nose, Mama," Bea slurs, wincing when the car rolls over a pothole.

"Yeah, baby. You did good. You did really good."


	13. Day

**Day**

* * *

A lamp comes on and Bea scrunches her face against the so-bright, mewling against Daddy's chest. The sleep that lives inside her is still chattering away, but Daddy scoops her out of bed, his hand pinning the blanket to her back so that it comes too.

"Is it so late?" she whispers, her spider legs dangling down and almost making Daddy trip.

He huffs a noise and moves her in his arms until she's comfy, each step of the stairs making her brain wobble. At the bottom, Mommy's perfume comes to say hello to her nose and Beatrice tugs her eyes open to see, smiling at Mommy from over Daddy's shoulder.

"It's very late, baby girl," Daddy says, carrying her over to the couch and setting her down on the cushions. He tucks her blanket up around her shoulders and Bea kicks her feet against the couch cushions. Mommy comes to sit at the end of her legs and puts a hand under the blanket to squeeze Bea's toes.

It makes her squeal and Daddy groans, covering his ears with his hands and sticking his bottom lip out at her. "Don't be so loud, Little Bean. It's very late. Daddy's brain is sleeping."

"That's silly," she giggles, and Bea glances at Mommy for approval. Mama smiles at her and opens her arms, scooping Bea up and squeezing her tight, and Beatrice peers around the living room. Only one lamp is on, and she's careful not to look at the shadows for too long, not to see the eyes that blink back. "Where's Jack-Jack."

"He just went to the bathroom, sweetheart," Mommy says, kissing the warm of Bea's neck. It makes her squirm. Her elbow crashes into Mommy's hip and she yells, shifting Bea in her arms so that her pointy bones aren't hurting anymore.

The shower curtain is hanging up specially. This afternoon, Bea hopped around Daddy's ankles like a little bird as he hung it from the ceiling. He tested that it was working by playing videos of Jack and Bea when they were just babies, their faces red with so much yelling.

In Bea's favourite one, Mommy's hair covers some of the screen, her smile big and good, and she sings a song to a tiny baby who waves their fists around. It's Beatrice, too little to remember it, and it makes the places next to her heart feel all warm and melty.

"Is it nearly time?" she asks Mommy, her head to heavy to hold up. She rests against Mama's chest, rubbing her face against Mommy's pajama shirt because she still has sand in her eyes. A nudge makes her jump and she peeks past Mommy's shoulder to see the screen, all of the people.

"Daddy," she says, tugging on his sleeve. Her big brother comes back from the bathroom and Daddy sits on the couch beside Mommy, Jack sitting in his lap. Daddy tugs the big blanket up over all of them and now Bea has got _two_ and she is so toasty and snug-as-a-bug. "You can see the crowd outside?"

He turns over his shoulder, but you can't even see out of the window from all the way over here and that's silly. "No baby. Not from here. Maybe when you're bigger we could go to Times Square."

"Have you been before, Dad?" Jackson says, sitting up straight like he's too big to curl up with Daddy. Mommy pulls her legs up to the couch and she pokes her toes into Jack's side until he wriggles and giggles, letting Daddy put his arms around him.

"Not for a really long time. Mommy and I went one time."

Mama knocks her head against Daddy's shoulder and she leaves it there, all four of them squashed in close now. A whistle makes Bea jump and Mommy laughs at her, kisses her cheek. "Sorry sweetheart."

Snicket's ears stand up tall and he trots over to the couch, jumping up when Mommy pats the cushion next to her. Beatrice's dog lays his head in her lap and she strokes his fur, bends down to whisper to him. "Snicket, it is almost the New Year."

"He doesn't know what that means," Jack says, scowling at her, but Daddy shushes him and then the people on the screen are all smiling and yelling and counting. They make it to one and then fireworks go off, loud inside Bea's chest.

Mommy and Daddy are doing kissy-face over the top of her and Jack and she pulls a face, but she doesn't really mind. She likes it when they smile at each other, when Daddy puts his hand on Mommy's face and she closes her eyes.

"Do you know what year it is?" Mommy is saying now, stroking Bea's hair, and Snicket licks Beatrice's palm, his tail thumping against the couch.

"It's twenty twenty five," Jack blurts out before Beatrice even gets a chance to think and she for sure knew the answer and that's _mean_. She pokes her tongue out at him, but Mommy gives her a look and Bea curls up small and hides her face against Mama's arm.

Daddy tugs on Jack's ear, one of his arms curling around Mommy's shoulders, and his fingers slide down to tickle the top of Beatrice's head. "And does anybody know why this year is special?"

"It's the quarter century," Jack says, and Bea wants to punch his stupid smug face. It's not _fair_ that he's learned more stuff than her.

"It is," Daddy says, and then he kisses Mommy again, his forehead touching hers until Jack butts his head back against Daddy's shoulder. "But there's another reason it's special."

Ha! Mama told her earlier, and it's not even cheating. It's _learning_. Bea pokes her tongue out at her brother and sits up a bit more straight, turning to look at Mommy and her big smile.

"This year it is ten years since Mommy and Daddy got married."


	14. Cinnamon

**Cinnamon**

* * *

"You alright?" Kate asks, glancing up from the counter.

Her husband took Beatrice out for ice cream, a Valentine's Day tradition that stretches back since Bea first learned how to hold a spoon on her own. Alexis is meeting them there, Castle always wanting to spoil his daughters on this day, but Jack had sighed and declined Rick's offer to join them.

It's just the two of them in the loft now and Kate taps her pen against her cheek, waiting on her son.

"I. . .there's someone. I sent a card."

"You did?" Kate hums, careful not to embarrass their boy. Jackson is on the football team, tall and square-jawed, and all of the girls in his grade and several from the one above fawn over him, crowding the edges of the field to cheer for him.

It makes Castle's chest puff up in ridiculous pride, like a bear stretched up on his hind legs, and Kate has to lay a hand against his thigh in reminder almost every game. Even though Jack is most definitely popular, has the same easy charm with girls as his father, the attention still makes him squirm.

"Yeah," Jack says quietly, his eyes firmly on the work of his hands. "Put it in her locker this morning. With some, uh- some cookies."

"Was it you that used up the last of the cinnamon?" Kate laughs, shaking her head. Her daughter likes to sprinkle some of the spice into her cereal, having apparently inherited her father's love for weird culinary combinations.

Yesterday, Beatrice had been met with an empty container and had pitched a fit, accusing Castle of using up all of the cinnamon just to spite her. It had turned into a yelling match, and now that she thinks about it, Jackson was suspiciously silent.

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll buy some more."

"Okay, that's fi- wait," Kate lifts a hand and pins her son under a stare that makes him actually turn around and face her with a little gulp. "You made _cookies_ for your Valentine?"

Heat crawls up the column of Jackson's neck and into his cheeks, flaring brilliant and pink, and Kate slips out of her stool and wraps her arms around her son before he can wriggle away. He gruffs a noise of irritation, but after a moment he stops struggling and relaxes against her.

"I really, really like her."

"Does she have a name?" Kate probes. Castle and Bea are the louder half of the family, would be skipping around Jack, their bellies swollen with mirth if they were here. This is her baby, her firstborn, and she still remembers the first time she ever felt him move inside her, how the shock of it had made tears spill down her cheeks. She can do gentle, can let Jack work through his embarrassment before the others find out.

"Ruthie."

Kate lets Jack worm his way out of their hug, but she keeps an arm hooked around his shoulders and knocks her head against his. "Well bud, I'm sure she's delighted."

"Cinnamon cookies are her favourite. She has one in her lunch almost every day."

"You guys eat lunch together?" Kate says, stepping back from her son. He's slicing fruit and vegetables for his protein shakes, and she presses two fingers against the curve of her smile.

Jack is methodical in his work, that little furrow between his eyebrows so exactly like his mother, and she feels her heart swell in her chest with love for him. He doesn't quite manage to look at her, wrinkling his nose as he slices a banana into neat chunks.

"Yeah. It's protocol that I'm supposed to sit with the other guys on the team, but they're so loud Mom. And so _lewd_."

"I know," she laughs, her son's face all scrunched up. He's never been an enormous fan of the jock persona he's expected to wear. Like his father, Jackson slips in and out of a public image as easily as a snake, shedding the skin of football gorilla. At heart, their boy is kind and quiet and studious, loving with so much of himself.

Finishing up with the last of the fruit, Jack turns to look at her and his mouth turns down at the corners. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"Of course she will," Kate assures him, taking the knife from her son's hands and loading it into the dishwasher. She's never known Jack to have so much as a crush before, had no idea that he liked a girl enough to bake cookies for her, and melancholy swells in her chest.

Both of her babies are so big, and she doesn't know what she and Castle are gonna do when they leave for college, when the whole huge loft is still and silent.

"Is it dumb?" Jack frowns, feeding the fruit into the blender now. It whirs loudly, slicing through bananas and strawberries with ease, and Kate takes a moment to watch before she answers.

"It's not dumb at all. It's really sweet of you, Jack. I'm sure that Ruthie will be absolutely smitten."

That makes him blush again, ducking his head, but his smile starts at one corner of his mouth and arcs all the way across to the other, his eyes scrunching closed. "I hope so. She's really great. But Mom? Please don't tell Dad and Bea."

"I won't," Kate assures her son, resting a palm against the wing of his shoulder blade. She and Castle don't keep secrets anymore, in fact it's something of a tradition that they whisper their deepest heart to one another after they turn out the light, but she'll keep it from her husband. "This is yours to tell. And I know how Beatrice can tease."

"And Dad," Jack huffs. "He's even worse. He even teases you, Mom."

She laughs, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and picturing her husband and his goofy joy. "It's out of love, bud. Always out of love."


	15. Flux

**Flux**

* * *

"Stay close to Mommy," Kate says, and although he knows she doesn't mean him Castle finds himself jogging to catch up with her. She's got a child on either arm, both of them clinging tight to her hands and grinning wide.

Excited to be out in the city on an adventure with Mom and Dad, and Rick is so stupidly grateful for his wife and how incredibly smart she is. He told her about his total failure to explain the concept of humility to their kids, had braced himself to be yelled at, but Kate had slid into his lap and draped her arms around his neck. Kissed him, her hips rocking, and whispered that she would fix it.

They're on their way to introduce their kids to West Side Wally.

"Is it so much further?" Jack asks, turning back over his shoulder to make sure that Castle is still following behind. He doesn't want to take up the whole sidewalk by standing beside his wife and their children, so instead he's shadowing his family, stitching himself to their heels.

"We're here," Kate says, ducking into an alleyway. Castle reaches for his daughter and scoops her into his arms, Kate's hand firmly at Jack's shoulder, and the four of them more further into the dark and gaping mouth of the alley.

West Side Wally materialises from a pile of trash and grunts at them, his woollen hat pulled down low. Bea whimpers against her father's ear and Castle squeezes her, kisses her cheek. "It's okay, baby girl. This is Mommy and Daddy's friend."

"Detective," West Side Wally says to Rick's wife, offering a grubby hand. Kate takes it without hesitation and shakes, smiling at him.

"West Side," she says in greeting, nudging Jackson to come out from behind her leg. "These are my children, Jackson and Beatrice. Say hello, guys."

They do, a little timid but unable to go against the manners that their parents have instilled into them. West Side Wally grins at the kids, his teeth like crumbling tombstones, and Bea buries her face against her father's neck and whimpers.

"Can you give West Side Wally the coffee, sweetheart?" Kate says to their son. With her hands both holding onto the kids, Jackson had to be in charge of carrying the to-go cup and he had beamed, so proud to have such an important job.

He hands it over and West Side Wally takes it gratefully, burying his nose in the top to breathe deeply and both hands wrapped firmly around it, letting the warm leach into his skeleton fingers.

"Why are we here?" Jack whispers, tugging on his mother's arm.

Glancing down at their son, Kate lifts an eyebrow and rests her palm at the back of his head. "West Side Wally used to be a classical pianist. He was very successful."

"And now he lives in the _trash_?" Bea says, her eyes wide, and the way she clings to Rick reminds him of a little ring-tailed lemur.

His cheeks flame and Castle shoots a glance over at West Side Wally, wrinkling his face in apology. "Sorry."

"Kid's right," West Side grumps, one shoulder coming up in a disjointed shrug. "That's why you're here. Detective Beckett wanted to show them how the mighty can fall."

"You see guys," Kate says, and at his wife's gesture Castle sets their daughter down. Beatrice hurries to stand beside her brother, grabbing for his hand and clinging on tight. Their mother sinks into a crouch so she can meet their eyes, and Castle can't help but brush his fingers against the back of his wife's head. "Sometimes you can be good at something, and be doing well, but life changes all the time. It's always in flux. So sometimes it can get taken away again."

Beatrice blinks up at Rick, a frown wrinkling her forehead. "Daddy, what's flux?"

"It means continuous change. So nothing stays the same for too long."

He gets a nod of understanding from both kids and then they turn back to look at their mother, waiting for the rest of her message. "So you can never think that you know somebody's story. That because they don't have a home, that means they're a bad person. You're not better than them, just like nobody is better than you."

"Mr West Side," Bea says, turning to face him and tugging on his sleeve. Castle wrinkles his nose at that, makes a note not to let Beatrice touch her face with that hand, but Kate sees and smacks a hand against his knee on her way to standing. "I'm sorry you don't have a home."

"I'm sorry too, kid," West Side Wally says, taking a sip of the coffee they brought him. "Your mom is a good person."

Castle puffs up his chest, hands sliding into his pockets, and he tilts his head. "What about me?"

"Eh, you're fine," West Side Wally shrugs. "Must have done something right to end up marrying her."

He opens his mouth to respond, but the kids are both laughing hysterically now and hopping around his ankles like little birds. Kate chuckles too, but she comes in to slide a hand into his coat pocket and kiss his cheek in sympathy.

Rick grumbles, but he's got two amazing kids clinging to the leg of his jeans, and the most amazingly wise and beautiful woman in the world pressed up close against him, and nothing ever seems to hurt for very long. Not when he's so blessed.

"Time to go guys," Kate hums, herding the kids towards the mouth of the alley.

Jack turns back and offers a small hand for West Side Wally to shake, shooting his mother a pleased little smile when he does so. "Thank you, Mr Wally."

Rick winces, bracing for West Side Wally to yell at his son that he prefers _West Side_ , but apparently he's gotten soft over the years and he only offers Jackson another toothless grin.


	16. Bleep

**A/N:** Again, this one deals with events after Castle's death, so please skip it if you're not about that.

* * *

 **Bleep**

* * *

"Hi there, little one," Kate whispers, and the baby's clear and startled eyes pop open. She's fair, her lashes and eyebrows so pale that they're not quite visible, and the soft cap of hair that Kate can't seem to stop smoothing her fingers over is as blonde as her mother.

Alba is dozing in the bed, Jack out cold in the chair next to his wife with his head torqued at an awkward angle. His neck is going to give him hell when he wakes up, but Kate doesn't dare try and shift him. The new parents need all the rest they can get.

It means she can snuggle with her granddaughter, the little one sleepy and soft. Kate's heart is slow-moving in her chest, her whole body aching with Castle's absence. He loved being a grandfather so much, absolutely doting on Harry, and now that Jack's daughter has come quietly into the world Kate can only imagine the scrunch of his face in joy.

Eilidh Richard Monroe-Castle, the little one is named, and Kate wonders how such a tiny thing can hold so much history in her starfish fingers. Alba's family are Scottish, both of her parents born there, and Jack's wife had wanted their daughter to carry that heritage through her life.

Her middle name is for Castle, for Rick, and Kate had choked on a sob when they told her. Tears had spilled down her cheeks but she had smiled right through them, accepting the squirming little bundle from her son and holding the baby close against her chest.

"I'm sorry your grandpa isn't here," Kate whispers, careful not to wake Eilidh's parents. The baby's eyes search her face and a hand peeks out from underneath the blanket. Kate touches the tip of her finger to the little one's palm and her fingers close tight, her mouth round as a fish. "He would love you so much. I'll tell you about him when you're bigger, I promise. And Daddy will have lots of stories for you too."

It's been nearly twenty nine years since Kate became a grandmother, since she held Castle's hand and tried to distract him from his restlessness. He wanted so badly to be there for Alexis that the waiting almost killed him, but it was worth it when they got to meet Harry for the first time.

As much as she loves Alexis, thinks of the girl as family, Castle's daughter has never exactly been _hers_. Which meant that although Harry calls her Gram, something about this moment with Eilidh feels different. Like her blood is calling out to the baby, her heart aglow with pride and love.

"Kate?" Alba stirs, heavy lids peeling open, and she sits up in the bed. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Kate smiles, but she brings the baby back over to her mother, handing Eilidh over to Alba and settling in the vacant chair beside the bed. The monitors bleep, a metronome that reminds Kate of long hours folded uncomfortably in the chair at Castle's bedside, retelling him the stories of their history.

And earlier, watching her baby passed around the family so everybody could say hello and burning with the need to have her little one back safe against her chest. Castle knowing it, subtly herding everyone out of the room.

"How are you feeling? Don't be afraid to ask for pain meds if you need them."

Alba shifts, as if she's testing the limits of her battered body, but then she glances down at her daughter and a brilliant smile stretches wide at her mouth. "I'm okay. She was more than worth it."

"I know the feeling," Kate smiles, glancing over at her own baby asleep in his chair. Melancholy stirs in her chest, and for a moment she misses Jack's babyhood so fiercely she could cry, but then she sheds her grief with a little wriggle.

"Thank you for being here," Alba says quietly, shifting the baby in the crook of her arm so that she can flip her hand under Kate's, their palms clasped together now. "I know it's hard for you to be away from the city."

Kate stretches her free hand out and curls her fingers around the baby's socked foot, already missing the warmth and the weight of her. "It's not so hard. Not when I get to have this instead."

"Jack's missing Rick a lot," Alba says, her eyes intent on Kate as if to make sure that it's okay to talk about him. The silence is the worst part. Everybody tiptoes around her, not wanting to upset the widow, but she aches to share her memories of Castle with somebody.

"I wish he were here for this. He'd be so excited."

Alba huffs a little breath of laughter and Kate shares in it, dipping her head and smiling wide enough that her eyes scrunch closed. The baby opens her eyes to look at her mother, rubbing her face against Alba's chest, and Alba sweeps her fingers in a slow arc over the curve of Eilidh's skull. "He would. And I think Jack's panicking about being a dad. Wishing he had Rick for advice."

"He doesn't need him," Kate says firmly, glancing over at her sleeping son. "He's gonna be great. I didn't have my mom, but I think I did a pretty decent job of raising Jack and Bea. He's got all the memories of Castle to guide him."

"And you," Alba smiles, managing to pull her eyes away from her daughter for just long enough to smile at Kate. "Not for dad stuff, obviously. But you're the only grandparent Eilidh has. So I'm sorry, but if either of needs any advice we're going to have to turn to you."

"It's my honour," Kate says, stroking her fingers over the soft cotton of the baby's onesie. "I'll do my best to be as fun for her as Rick would have been. To be a cool Grams."


	17. Drag

**Drag**

* * *

"Oh," he says when the door opens. "Hey, honey. You're early."

"I closed the case. Came home to my family," Kate says slowly, her voice rising in question at the tail end of the sentence. His wife sheds her coat and hangs it up in the closet next to the door, unzipping her boots and leaving them dumped in the entryway.

The kids are both hopping around like sparrows, Jack with a hot pink feather boa wrapped three times around his neck. Bea is wearing every piece of costume jewellery she found in her grandmother's box in the spare room, and she jingles every time she moves.

"Mama!" the kids yell out, hurrying to take one of her hands each and drag her over to the living room. They push on her shoulders until Kate flops to sit on the couch, the dog pulled out of the excitement to climb up and curl in Kate's lap.

"Mommy," Jack says, pride making his whole face wide and bright. "Daddy is a beautiful lady."

That makes Kate laugh, a hand pressed to her cheek, and she meets Rick's eyes. He pulls a face of exasperation and blows the long, synthetic blonde strands out of his face. "I see that, guys. Did you find Grams' costume box?"

"Yes!" Beatrice chirps, fanning her little fingers out so that Kate can see the rings that adorn them, Bea's hands kept carefully upright so that the too-big jewels don't come tumbling off. "Do you like Daddy's lipstick?"

"Very nice," Kate smirks, lifting an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs. These kids are everything to him, and if a little humiliation makes them smile like this then he'll take it. "Can Mommy have some makeup too?"

Both of the kids gasp at that, apparently not sure that their mother would want to join in, and then they're scurrying off to find the box of theatre makeup from the bathroom. Castle comes to sit beside his wife, shifting in the aquamarine flapper dress the kids made him wear.

It wouldn't even go over the breadth of his shoulders, and they didn't even attempt to zipper it closed, but he thinks he looks rather dashing.

"You make an ugly woman, babe," Kate laughs, swiping at the smudged edge of his lipstick with the pad of her thumb. She leans in to kiss his cheek, wrinkling her nose when she gets close enough to smell the litres of perfume the kids sprayed him with. "Too handsome. You can't quite pull it off."

"I know," he sighs, twirling a strand of long hair around his finger and batting his eyelashes at her. He insisted on being the one to wrangle with the glue, the one to fix them on, but it's not like he has any better an idea than the kids do and one set of lashes pokes him in the eye each time he blinks.

"You're a good daddy," Kate smiles, patting his chest, and the dog crawls over her legs to wriggle his way down in between their bodies instead. Snicket has a snazzy bow tie of his own attached to his collar, but Rick had to draw the line at putting makeup on the dog.

Scratching behind the dog's ears, Castle leans against the back of the couch and wriggles his bare toes. "They couldn't find any heels to fit me, and it was very upsetting for them. Jack shouted at me for having 'gross hairy hooves.'"

"Oh no," Kate says, managing to hold in her laughter for all of half a second before it comes bursting out. She lays her head against his shoulder and he taps his feet - sorry, hooves - against the floor in a merry dance. "I hope you didn't stretch any of mine."

"Course not," he huffs, nudging his head against hers. "I value my life too much."

The kids spill into the living room in a blur of noise and jewel tones, lugging the heavy makeup box between them and setting it down on the coffee table. Beatrice produces a hairband and passes it over to Kate, her hands on her hips in a perfect impression of Martha's director mode.

"You have to put that on Mommy, so we can see your pretty face."

She does as she's told, her hair back out of her face, and the kids come to stand on either side of her legs, wielding a variety of torturous looking instruments.

As fun as it was to let them make him over, it's infinitely more wonderful to watch his wife with their kids. They're bossy, instructing her to contort her face in a variety of grotesque masks while they paint her with a thick layer of stage makeup.

Castle scoops Snicket up so that the dog can't eat the lipstick right out of Bea's hand, grimacing when he gets a slobbery lick to the side of his face. "Okay guys. Don't poke Mommy's eye out."

"I'm fine," Kate laughs, settling a hand at his thigh. He's still wearing jeans and a t-shirt underneath his costume dress, and he's afraid to move in case he busts a seam and incurs his mother's wrath. "Who's prettier, Mommy or Daddy?"

"Mommy," they chirp in unison, dissolving into giggles when Castle feigns hurt. He pouts, and Kate comes in to kiss him, winds up with his lipstick smeared all over her face.

"You ruined it," Bea whines, but Castle shoots her a warning glance and she turns back to face Kate. "Mommy, you want red or pink lips?"

Kate thinks for a moment and then she nods, grinning at their kids. "Red. So I can match Daddy."

"One day when Bea is bigger she can wear makeup," Jack says morosely, casting a glance at the products scattered across the table, floor and couch. "But not me. I'm a boy."

"You can wear makeup if you want to, baby," Kate says to their son. "You can wear whatever makes you happy."


	18. Left

**Left**

* * *

"Grandpa," Harry says, his fearsome little face all scrunched up, and he tugs hard on Castle's hand. It makes him stumble, and then Kate bumps up against his back.

They're trying to get out of the subway station, but now they've stopped moving and people are flooding around their little cluster and scowling. Castle sets a hand at the back of Harry's head and nudges, reaching back to skim his fingers over Kate's thigh and make sure she's still there.

"Keep moving, kiddo. We can't stop here."

"But Eeyore is left behind," Harry wails, struggling against Castle's hand. He sighs and scoops the boy up even as he rails against his grandfather. They make it up the last few steps and out of the flow of foot traffic.

Castle presses his back to the wall and Kate comes in close, sifting her fingers through their grandson's hair and getting her lips against Harry's ear. "Where did you leave Eeyore?"

"On the subway," the boy cries, scrubbing his face against Castle's chest, and Kate winces. They're looking after Harry today, because Alexis and her husband are doing some redecorating, and Kate has a tiny _Avengers_ backpack slung over one shoulder.

Their own kids are at home with Martha, bouncing off the walls with joy at getting to spend the day with Harry, but from the rapidly developing meltdown he's having, she's not sure they're going to make it back to the loft any time soon.

"I have an idea," Castle says, setting the boy down on his feet. Harry immediately clings to Kate's leg and buries his face against her thigh, tears soaking hot and sticky through her jeans. "I'll tweet it. Ask if anybody's seen Eeyore."

"He'll be scared," Harry cries, and Kate crouches down with her back to half of New York as they spill up the steps.

Brushing her thumbs over his cheeks, Kate finds his eyes and offers him a smile. "It's okay, sweet boy. Grandpa is going to find Eeyore, and you'll have him back really soon."

" _How_ will he find him?" Harry says, but his tears are slowing down now and his face is a little less red.

Glancing up at her husband as his thumbs work furiously over the keys, Kate can't help her grin and she turns back to face her grandson, pushing his fair hair back out of his face. "Let me tell you something. Grandpa will do anything in the world for people he loves. If you said _Grandpa, I need you to pick up that skyscraper_ , he would find a way."

"Jack said Grandpa can do magics. And you can too, Grammy."

"We can," Kate chuckles. "And we're teaching Jack and Bea, too. Did you know that when you were still in your mommy's tummy, she came to watch them do a magic show, and she said you were kick-kick-kicking the whole time."

That makes her grandson smile shyly at her, burying his face against Castle's thigh, and Kate's husband settles a distracted hand at the top of the boy's head and ruffles his hair, still bowed over his cell phone.

"What kind of magic do you know, Grammy?" the boy says, huge eyes blinking up at her.

"Well," Kate says, to earn herself a little bit of time to think. "I can do tricks. I can make a coin appear from behind your ear, or I can pull flowers out of my sleeve. But the best magic is the kind Grandpa does."

"It is?" Harry breathes, clinging tight to the lapel of Kate's jacket.

Her husband is listening in. His fingers have stilled at his phone and his eyes dart down to the two of them, but Kate pretends not to see. Wants him to think that he's overhearing.

"It is. Because Grandpa's magic is taking care of his family. It's making all of your hurts go away, and making you smile. It's being there for cuddles and ice cream and telling you stories about anything you want to hear. Grandpa's magic is loving you so much."

"Kate," her husband whispers and she glances up at him, sees his face softening around the edges as awe unravels across it. She straightens up, keeping a tight hold of her grandson's hand so he doesn't get swept up in the crush of bodies, and she accepts the kiss Castle brushes against her cheek.

"It's true," she says, softly enough for Harry not to hear. "You brought that magic into my life, Rick. I'm so grateful."

"I love you," he whispers, clumsy fingers coming to the back of Kate's neck and working their way through her hair until they meet bare skin. He draws her in for a real kiss, his lips a little dry from the recycled air of the subway, and Kate is careful not to get lost in it.

After all, their grandson is still at their feet. "Grandpa, you find Eeyore?"

"I did!" Castle grins, showing Kate his phone. The volume of people tweeting him is alarming, makes her wrinkle her nose, and then she catches her own name. Her partner tweets about her all the time, sharing their love story with the world, and it alarms her when strangers ask him if he's shared a bath with her lately.

He pulls up the right tweet, a photograph of Eeyore with his signature tattered ear and an offer to meet outside the subway station in ten minutes and hand him over.

"Oh, kiddo, Grandpa's right," Kate says, ruffling Harry's hair to try and jostle some excitement into him. "We need to go wait outside the station and, uh, _castlelover1212_ is going to bring you your elephant."

"Guess that one's not your account after all, huh?" Castle smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes and turns away, making for the stairs.

Glancing back, she arches a brow at him. "I don't need a twitter account to get you to notice me, Mr Castle."


	19. Probe

**Probe**

* * *

"Please tell me," he whines, his hand snaking its way underneath the sheets to wriggle at her ribcage. They're both naked, stretched out like lazy, sun-soaked cats in their bed, and her fiancé has been working to get her to spill her guts for the last five minutes.

She finalised their honeymoon destination a couple of days ago, after her talk with Martha, and it's driving Castle nuts that she won't tell him where they're going. Kate can't give him wealth, can't compete with the fat swell of his wallet, but she can offer him the surprises he loves.

"I'm not gonna tell you," she says firmly, rolling onto her stomach and folding her arms so that she can pillow her cheek against them. "I want to see your face when we get to the airport."

"But then how will I know what to pack?" he says, coming in close until they're nose to nose on the pillow. It only takes the lift of his chin and then he's kissing her, and his fingertips flirt with the notches of her spine. "This is cruel."

Kate laughs at that, their bodies pressed in close and tight, and she wants to stay here for the rest of the day. The sun is already sinking down, the sky bleeding brilliant ribbons of gold and peach, and she tangles her feet with Castle's beneath the sheets.

"I'll pack for you. Then even your clothes will be a surprise."

"No," he yelps, his whole face pinched tight in alarm, and Kate smoothes a hand over his cheek to soothe him. "That's not fair. I want to put together some cute outfits, make you swoon a little bit."

That makes her snort on a laugh and she rolls onto her back, throwing an arm across her eyes. "Cute outfits? Are you a twelve year old girl?"

"You kind of make me feel like one," he grumbles at her, worming an arm underneath her body to drag her across the sheets. She goes willingly and nuzzles her nose at the inside of his arm, opening her lips in a lazy kiss.

"That's sweet. You want to dress up for me," she grins, starfishing her limbs over the mattress. Her fiancé looms over her and Kate cranes her neck, lips glancing off his chin. "You're cute."

He scowls at her, but he can't quite seem to maintain it. She wore him out, and now they're both loose and lazy and even his mouth is unable to do more than arc into a sleepy smile. "M'not cute. But I do want to. This isn't fair."

"I thought you like surprises?" she hums, winding an arm around his neck to draw him down to her. Castle flops down to the pillow and pulls the sheets up around them, his arm felled to crash over her waist. It pins her to the sheets, but Kate only runs her fingers up and down the ribbons of muscle in his forearm.

"I do," her partner says against her ear, his voice husky. She made him cry out, more than once, and she knows his throat must be hurting now. "I do. I just want to get excited with you. I want to research activities and daydream about how amazing it will be. I want us to share in this."

Kate rolls onto her side to prop her chin at his shoulder, her tongue just darting out to flick against his earlobe. Since he proposed - for the second time - and she said yes, everything has been heightened between them.

Even the sound of his voice is like pooling heat, like need in her guts. "Okay. You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"We're spending a week in Bora Bora. Finally gonna make it there," she chuckles, and his whole face comes alive with joy.

He kisses her, fingers sliding into her hair and his knee working its way between her thighs. The flop of his bangs tickles her forehead and Kate pulls away on a laugh, touching her thumb to the jut of his chin.

"I can't wait. Can we go bikini shopping, _please_."

"I'm not sure you can rock a bikini," she smirks up at him, stealing another kiss from his lips when he pouts at her. "And after Bora Bora-"

"After?" he gasps, pushing up on one elbow again to stare down at her. It's cold, now that the sweat has dried on her skin, and gooseflesh erupts along the length of her arms.

Tugging on her partner, Kate draws him back down so that there's no gaping place in the sheets for cool air to rush in, snuggling up to the heat of him. "Yes. After that, we're going on a whistle stop tour of the world. As many places as we can cram in in two weeks."

"You're amazing," he grins, his arm working its way underneath her neck so that she winds up sprawled over his chest. He plays with the ends of her hair and his lips nuzzle at her temple, his whole body thrumming with excitement now that he gets to share the secret. "This is going to be so awesome."

"I hope so," she hums, wrinkling her nose. "I wanted to be able to pay half, but I couldn't really afford any of the places you liked. But your mother talked some sense into me, convinced me that you love being able to spoil people."

He wriggles with pleasure, even his toes scrunching up, and a wide palm comes to the back of her head. "I really do. I would lavish you with gifts every day if I thought I could get away with it."

"Don't need gifts," she hums, worming her way in impossibly closer against him. "Just you. I'd love you even if you were broke. It's your generosity with your heart that makes me happy, makes me proud to be your fiancée."

"Gonna be my wife," he beams, and she kisses him again.


	20. Blur

**Blur**

* * *

"Babe, have you seen my glasses?" his wife calls through from the bedroom, and all three of them freeze. Castle's got Beatrice in his lap, palm splayed at the girl's round little belly, and Jackson is tucked underneath his free arm.

They're looking at photographs from Alexis' honeymoon on the iPad while Kate gets ready for work, all three of them still in their pajamas with their hair sticking up at strange angles all over their heads.

"Nobody move," he whispers to the kids. "Maybe she won't see us."

That makes them giggle, and then his wife appears from the bedroom. She's wearing that pale grey pantsuit he loves so much today, a white blouse that just skirts the line of inappropriate sheerness, and she's got her hair pulled back in a knot at the nape of her neck.

"Are you guys ignoring me?"

"No, Mama," Jack says dramatically, pressing both hands to his cheeks, and Rick nudges his knuckle into their son's temple. "We didn't hear."

"Sure," Kate says slowly, coming to see what they're doing. They're on the floor, his back against the couch and the iPad propped on the coffee table in front of them. "Are you looking at the pictures again?"

Beatrice tugs on the leg of her mother's pants and Castle reaches for their girl, trapping both of her hands in his so that she can't get any smudges on her mom before Kate has to leave for work. Resting her head against her father's chest, Beatrice blinks up at her mother. "Lexis so pretty, Mama. She pretty?"

"Yes, baby girl, I think your sister is pretty," Kate smiles for their toddler, bringing a knee up to the couch so that she's almost sitting behind them. "Doesn't mean I need to look at her pictures four times a day though."

"Hey, grumpy," Castle mutters, knocking his head against her thigh. "Little ears."

Kate loves Alexis, he knows that. Normally, his wife is a lot more deft than him at fielding questions about why Alexis has a different mommy and does _their_ mommy still love her just the same. He knows she's feeling grumpy lately though, and that her irritation is not with Alexis but with everyone.

"Sorry," she whispers back to him, reaching down to sift her fingers through Jackson's hair and try to flatten it a bit. "But really, do you know where my glasses are?"

Two days ago, Beckett and the boys had gone to a suspect's apartment to search for evidence, only to find him lying in weight and armed to the teeth with pepper spray. He caught Castle's wife full in the face, and although his wife has been trained to handle it, her eyes have been itching and sore since then.

It means she can't wear her contacts, has been forced to let her colleagues see her in her glasses for the first time, and it's only adding to her irritation at the whole damn mess.

"I don't think I have, honey," he says apologetically, but he slides their baby girl out of his lap to sit with her brother on the floor and he gets slowly to his feet, his knee crying out. "Let me help you look."

"I tried to retrace my steps," she says, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her finger. Her voice is still a little scratchy because of all the coughing, and Rick comes in close to press a kiss to his wife's throat.

A little hand pushes against his thigh and he glances down at his son's scrunched up little face. "Daddy, move, your big butt is covering the screen."

"Jackson," Kate says sharply, and the two of them stop their giggling and straighten up. "That was rude. Daddy has a very nice butt, and if it's in your way then you say excuse me."

"'Scuse me, Daddy," Jack says, and Castle steps out of the way of the iPad, leaving the kids to look through the rest of the photos themselves.

"Thanks for defending my butt," he says once he and Kate are out of earshot and she rolls her eyes. "You got in late last night, and you took a shower right away because you said you felt grimy."

That makes her whole face come alive and she traps his head between her palms, holding him in place so that she can come in to kiss him. "I _did_ take a shower. Wait right there."

He does, peering over the back of the couch to make sure that the kids are being careful with his iPad, and after only a moment his wife is back. The frames are giant, black and boxy, and Rick sets his hands at her hips and draws her in close.

Plastic digs against the edge of his cheek as he kisses her, but it only makes him smile. Her teeth chase his mouth, catching in the swell of his bottom lip and he growls. "Mm, Kate. What are you doing to me?"

"Leaving," she laughs, patting his chest, but it only makes him tighten his grip. His fingers spread out wider, his pinkies grazing the very top swell of his wife's ass, and Kate licks at the edge of his jaw in retaliation. "I'm already late."

"Exactly," he shrugs, wondering exactly how angry she'll get if he untucks her blouse and goes in search of smooth, lovely skin.

"I told you, Beanie Ella," a little voice says, and Rick breaks away from his wife to see two dark little heads peering at them from over the back of the couch. "Daddy thinks that Mama's glasses are sexy."

Heat blooms in Kate's cheeks and she closes her eyes, shaking her head at the three of them. "I can't believe you taught them that word. They are two and four years old, Castle."

"I know," he shrugs, glancing at the kids and winking before he turns to face Kate. "But vocabulary is very important."


	21. Academy

**Academy**

* * *

"Beckett!" he calls out, already stumbling out of his chair and through to the living room. His wife is dozing on the couch, a blanket tucked around her waist and both hands settled at the swell of her belly.

One eye cracks open to see him and Kate shifts against the pile of cushions at her back, scraping a hand through her hair. "What's wrong? I'm sleeping."

"Sorry," he says, coming to sit by her hip. Rick pushes the hair back out of her face and kisses her forehead, pulling back three seconds later because he can't stop grinning. "Sorry, honey. How are you feeling?"

"Uncomfortable," she grumps, flexing her toes to make the blanket move. "Nauseous. Exhausted. Irritable."

Castle scrunches his face up into a wince and reaches under the blanket to find her hand, bringing it up to his mouth. Her fingers curl around his and he kisses her knuckles, traps her hand against his chest. "But maybe. . .maybe a little bit excited?"

"Of course," his wife sighs, covering her eyes with her free hand for a moment. "Looking forward to having him out of me. Holding him. You yelled?"

"Right," he grunts, letting her take her hand back and tuck herself in a bit move, bringing the faux fur warmth up higher around her waist. "Yes. I- the police academy graduation is in a little over a month."

Drawing her knees up, Kate turns onto her side and props a couple of pillows underneath her stomach, another between her head and the arm of the couch. "Castle. I'm tired. I'm huge. Our son has been kicking me in the bladder for the past half hour but I'm not sure I can actually get up and go pee. Please just tell me whatever you wanted to tell me so I can go back to sleep."

"They asked me to be a speaker. At the ceremony."

"You?" she snorts, poking her index finger into his thigh. "You're not a cop. What are you gonna say to them?"

It stings, it does, but Kate has an actual human growing inside her and their son is draining everything; her energy, her enthusiasm and apparently, her kindness. However snarky his wife gets, it's infinitely better than Meredith because at least Kate will still let him touch her. At least she lets him try to help make it easier on her.

"Well, celebrity element I guess," he says slowly. "And seven years of working with you at the precinct. I know it's not the same as actually being a cop. I know I'll never truly be one of the team. But I do have some experience."

"Oh, babe, no," Kate says, struggling upright, and he has to help her with a palm at the base of her spine, arrange her against the back of the couch. "No. I didn't mean that. God, what's wrong with me."

"Our son is very active?" he offers, and the outline of a foot presses high up in Kate's stomach as if to prove his point. "It's okay. I'm sure I'll hear worse from you when you're in labour."

Reaching for him, Kate hooks her fingers around his upper arm because it's the only place she can really reach. She tugs and he shifts as close as he can get with the swell of her stomach between them, accepting the kiss that she pushes against his mouth.

"I love you," she says fiercely, fingers drifting up to curl around his ear. "So much, Rick. I love you, and I'm so happy and so excited. We're having a baby. It's amazing. It's just. . .hard."

"I know," he soothes, sliding an arm around her shoulders and drawing her in to lean against him. She comes easily, tucking herself in close and resting her head against his chest, her finger circling around and around one of his shirt buttons. "It's okay, Beckett. No harm done. My ego can take a little bruising."

"I'm proud of you," she says quietly, tucking her feet underneath his thigh. "I am. You said yes right?"

Sifting his fingers through the ends of her hair, Rick kisses his wife's temple and splays his free hand against her stomach, feeling their baby roll around. Jackson, but they're not saying it out loud yet in case they change their minds once they get to see him.

"I said maybe. It's only a couple of days before your due date. So I said I'd be happy to do it, but that I might have to drop out at a moment's notice if you go into labour. And if he's born before then, then I won't do it either. I don't intend to leave your side, Kate Beckett."

"I hope you get to do it," she murmurs, her nose nuzzling against the side of his neck. "I really do. As much as I grumble, he's still got some cooking left to do. So I hope he holds out until after his daddy's big moment."

Drumming his fingers against Kate's stomach, Castle leans over to get his lips as close to her belly as he can manage to with her half draped over him. "You hear that, little man? Mommy wants you to stay nice and safe inside her tummy for a while yet."

"He did hear," Kate grins, her hand coming to cover his at her stomach. "He always gets more active when you're talking. When you read to him it's like he's doing somersaults in there."

"I can't wait to meet him," Rick breathes, kissing his wife because he is just so completely in awe of her. He knows that it's hard, and that she hates being stuck on desk duty, but he has no doubt that it's worth it.

Kate, like him, is already completely in love with their baby. Her lips land at the corner of his mouth and she smiles. "Me neither. But I hope he times it right. Because I really wanna hear this speech."


	22. Buffet

**Buffet**

* * *

"Mama," Jackson tugs on the bottom of her dress and Kate glances down at her son, lips peeling back around a goofy grin at the sight of him. He looks so adorable in his suit, his chest puffed up with pride because he matches his daddy, and Kate fixes Jack's hair where it spills over his forehead. "Can I have more food?"

There's a buffet at the wedding, rather than a formal meal, and Kate is a little surprised that Alexis wanted something so laid back. But then, there's a lot of kids here and Kate's grateful that she didn't have to try and get hers to sit still for food, that they can just graze.

"I'll make you a deal, sweet boy," Kate says, crouching down so that she's level with her son. The skirt of her dress pulls tight around her thighs and she wobbles a little on her ridiculous heels, sets a hand at Jackson's shoulder for balance. "Will you dance with Mommy for a little bit? And then we'll get some more food, okay."

"Okay Mama," Jack giggles, coming in close to bury his face in the curve of her neck. Kate kisses her son's cheek, where he's clammy from dancing with the other kids earlier.

Not his sister. Beatrice hid her face against Castle's chest and mewled when he suggested that she go dance with her brother. She's been clinging to her daddy all day actually, not even letting Kate take her out of his arms, but she thinks she gets it.

Rick is the father of the bride. He walked Alexis down the aisle this morning. She's his baby girl, all the time, but especially today. And little Bean, with her scrunched up angry face, is dealing with jealousy for maybe the first time in her short life.

The other half of her family are at the table, Castle chatting to some distant relative of Alexis' new husband, but he beams when he sees her approaching with Jack in hand. "There you guys are. Joseph, this is my wife and my son, Kate and Jack."

"Lovely to meet you," the man says, offering his hand for Kate to shake. "I'm Elijah's uncle. I'll leave you to your family."

"Jack's gonna dance with me," Kate says when Joseph is gone. One hand propped at the back of her husband's chair, she bows over him and gets her mouth against her daughter's ear. "You wanna come dance with me and Daddy and Jack, baby girl?"

She only gets the tip of Beatrice's nose and one huge, critical eye. A little voice pipes up, and Kate has to dip closer to hear over the swell of the music. "Daddy dance."

"You wanna dance with Daddy?"

"Yeah," Bea says, and Castle buries his grin against the crown of his daughter's head. Standing up from the chair, he keeps one arm tight around their girl and reaches for Jack with the other, herding him towards the dance floor.

They stay on the fringes of the seething mass of people, because the kids are still so tiny and neither Kate nor her husband is eager for one of them to get stomped on. Castle sets their daughter down on the floor, facing him, and her dress puffs out at her waist.

"Stand on Daddy's feet, Little Bean," Rick says, and Bea does as she's told. Jack already made fun of his father's dress shoes this morning, and Beatrice casts her brother a look as if to say _see what I get to do_. "Hold on."

Clinging to their daughter's hands, Castle dances her slowly in a tight circle, careful not to let her fall. It makes her laugh, so completely delighted to be dancing with her daddy, and Jack looks up at Kate. "Wanna dance, Mommy?"

"Of course I do, my handsome boy," she grins, frowning a moment as she debates the best way to do things. "I might have to pick you up though."

"Kay," Jack shrugs, reaching his arms up to her, and Kate scoops up her son and props him at her hip. Jackson lays his head against her shoulder and she kisses his cheek, swaying softly with him.

She only manages one dance before she starts to ache with the weight of her son and she has to set him down again. "Why don't you dance with your sister, baby? Let Mommy dance with Daddy."

Having Castle's undivided attention for a dance seems to have shaken Bea out of her funk and she goes happily when her brother tugs on her hand, letting Jack manhandle her around the floor. Castle steps towards Kate and slides his arms around her, drawing her body in close to his.

"Hi," she hums, looping her arms around her husband's neck. Their heads pressed together, they glance down at their children as the two of them hop around, trying to land in the spots of ever-shifting light that the disco ball casts. "We made some pretty great kids."

"We did," he smiles back, kissing her, but then Jack and Bea are groaning and head butting at their legs and they have to break apart. "Mm. Later. This dress, Kate."

"You like?" she says, and his fingers tighten at her waist.

Castle shakes himself a little, grunts, and then he puts another inch of space between their bodies. "Weddings, Kate. Always makes me think of ours. God, you were gorgeous."

"They're gonna be exhausted," she murmurs, dipping her head in the direction of their children. "They'll be out as soon as their heads hit the pillow. But I, Mr Castle, am feeling particularly. . .energetic, this evening."

"You need to stop," he groans, knocking his forehead against hers. "Our children are right there. And I love them, you know how much I do. But do you think Mother would mind watching them for an hour or so while we find a private room?"

"Yes," Kate snorts. "I do think she would mind."


	23. Chameleon

**Chameleon**

* * *

"What did you guys think?" Dad says the moment he comes through the door and Jack winces, darting a glance over to his mother and sister. They're on the couch together; Beatrice's AP Lit final is coming up and Mom is helping her study.

Dad comes over to the dining room table and sinks to sit, his eyes sharp on Jack as he draws. It's a portrait of the dog, because his art teacher encouraged him to branch out and do something he wouldn't normally try.

It's smudgy, and he hates it, but Dad hums a proud noise. "Looks good, kiddo."

"Thanks," Jack huffs, reaching for the eraser and scrubbing carefully at the places where the lines aren't right, where it loses its likeness to Baudelaire. "How was your interview?"

"Good, it- wait. You didn't see it?"

"Um," Jack gulps, flicking a glance to his father from the corner of his eye. He presses the back of his hand to his forehead, his shoulders suddenly feeling bony and birdlike as he shrugs. "No?"

Mom is getting up from the couch now and coming to them, Bea behind her with the dog in her arms. She rocks him like a child and Baudelaire licks at her neck, his eyes closing in contentment. Thin fingers come to Dad's shoulder and Mom leans in close to kiss his cheek, sifting her fingers through his hair.

"Hi. You have a good time?"

"You didn't watch either?" Dad says, twisting to look at Bea as she sinks to sit with the dog in her lap. "None of you did?"

Mom comes to sit at Jack's other side, and all three of them stare at Beatrice across the table. She's the most vocal, the least willing to keep quiet about her feelings, and she rolls her eyes and sighs. "No, Dad. We didn't watch your interview."

His whole face falls, so spectacularly that it's almost comical, but Mom's hand comes to Jack's knee and she gives him a sharp shake of her head before the laugh comes bursting out. "Babe, we're sorry. We are. It's just that when you're on TV, you're a different person."

"I'm not," Dad says immediately, glancing between the three of them as if he's not sure who has disappointed him the most. "I'm me. I'm the man you know."

"You're not, Daddy," Bea says softly. "You're louder, and you make these jokes and you flirt with everyone. And the makeup makes your face weird."

Jack sets his pencils down carefully in their tin and stands up to put his drawing on the kitchen island, safely out of the way of whatever this conversation is about to dissolve into. He comes back to sit, sprawling in his chair, and he finally manages to look at his father.

"Dad. You're weird on TV. It's not really you. And Bea and I have always hated having to watch, having to see this guy who looks like our Dad but talks and acts different. So Mom said we were old enough now to deal with the consequences of not watching."

"I thought you guys are proud of me," he says quietly, and Mom makes a noise that sounds like a sob.

Staggering out of her chair, she comes around to stand behind Dad's seat and leans over him, both arms around his shoulders and her cheek pressed to his. "We are, babe. We really are. You know that."

"I talked about you," Dad mutters, his body stiff even as Mom's fingers curl in his collar. "They asked me about what makes me happy, what I like to do in my spare time. And I said spending time with my wife, my kids. That I love my family more than anything. Paula said I gushed."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Bea whispers, her bottom lip quivering, and she comes around the table to hug Dad, setting the dog down on the floor. Beatrice wraps her arms around their father and Dad stares Jack down from over her shoulder.

There's a light of mischief in his eyes though and Jack frowns, tilting his head. "You knew, didn't you. You knew we didn't watch."

"When you guys were six and eight, I came home from a talk show and Mom told me that my interview made you both cry. That it scared you. I've been waiting for this for nine years."

"But how did you know it would be today?" Bea grumbles, sitting on the table now and swinging her feet.

Mom clears her throat and lifts a hand, wincing. "I told him I was gonna let you guys not watch. That I figured you'd learned enough about being supportive of your family by now."

" _Mom_ ," Bea gasps, kicking a foot in their mother's direction. "You lied to us. You told us Dad would never have to know."

"Not cool, Mom," Jack says, folding his arms, but relief swamps him. Since he was a kid, he's hated Dad's public persona. His dad is so great, fun and smart and kind, and he wants the world to see that guy. Not the one with the chiselled jawline and the distinguished grey bloom at his temples.

"Sorry guys," Mom laughs, moving to sit beside Dad. The dog butts his head against Mom's thigh and she scratches behind his ears. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's sweet that you guys were so concerned about Dad's feelings, but he doesn't mind."

Dad shakes his head and offers his fingers to Jack for him to feed the birds. "Not at all. It's cool, guys. I know it's weird for you to see it. Those actresses and models flirting with me."

"Yeah, okay stud," Mom says, rolling her eyes and nudging an elbow into Dad's side.

"I love you guys," Dad says, capturing one of Bea's feet and squeezing. He drapes an arm over the back of Jack's chair and pushes his knuckle into the back of his neck. "Even if you have betrayed me."


	24. Details

**Details**

* * *

Rick sinks to his knees in front of the couch and settles a palm at his wife's back, his hand splaying between the flare of her hips. Their son stares at his mother, kicking his socked feet against the couch cushions, and Kate catches hold of one of them and squeezes.

"Jackson, baby, Mama and Daddy have something to tell you."

"Tell!" he repeats, grinning wide and throwing his hands in the air. He's such a happy, active baby and Rick finds himself smiling right back, his thumb circling over the fabric of Kate's shirt.

Kate shifts to sit cross-legged, still holding on to their son's foot, and her finger sweeps back and forth along his toes. "Yes. You're going to have a new little brother or sister. There's a baby in Mommy's tummy."

"Baby?"

"Yeah," Castle laughs, suddenly needing his son closer. Climbing up onto the couch, Rick wraps both arms around Jackson and hauls the boy into his lap, lips at the chubby creases of their son's neck to blow a raspberry.

It makes him shriek with laughter and he thrashes in his father's grip, gasping. "Mama, Mama, help."

"I've got you," Kate laughs, coming to join them both on the couch. Rick catches Jack's legs before he can kick out at his mother, resting a heavy hand at the curve of their son's skull. It makes him sag immediately, his body like a stone dropped into a pool, and Kate sifts her fingers through his hair. "Are you excited, my sweet boy?"

"Baby? Mama tummy?" Jack says.

He's probably just parroting back his mother's earlier words, but Castle firmly believes in encouraging children to be inquisitive, to foster their learning. "Yeah, buddy. See, Mommy has eggs in her tummy and they-"

" _Castle_ ," his wife hisses, her free hand flying up to clamp over his mouth. "Please tell me you're not about to explain the birds and the bees to our sixteen month old."

"He asked," Rick shrugs, grunting when Jackson head butts him in the solar plexus. Shifting their son in his arms, he rocks the boy like a newborn. Like he'll soon do again with baby girl.

Okay, so they don't know for sure yet, but he has a feeling. And he wants so badly to see Kate Beckett with her daughter, see her play hair shop and gossip about boys and all that stuff. He wants his wife to have a mother/daughter relationship again, even if she's on the other end of things this time.

"He did not ask. He's just chatting. He most definitely doesn't need any details about how the baby was made. There's no way he's got any grasp of that question yet."

"Sure he does," Rick says easily, jostling their son. Jack is sleepy; he already had his bath tonight, and Kate wanted to break the news while their baby boy is warm and soft and quiet. One eye slits open and he glances up at Rick, lifting a starfish hand to splay at his father's cheek. "You're so smart, my man."

"Hi Daddy," Jack smiles, showing off those tiny milk teeth that he's so proud of.

Castle's wife makes a soft noise and Rick glances over at her, shifting on the couch until Jackson is draped half over his mother as well. Her fingers trace the shell of the baby's ear over and over again. "Mommy still loves you so much, sweet boy. Your baby brother or sister will just mean that my heart makes more love, not that you get less."

"I don't think he realises he has anything to be jealous of just yet," Castle whispers, lips skimming over his wife's cheekbone. He loves her so much, all the time, but getting to see the maternal fire that comes alive in her whenever their son is near is enough to bring him to his knees.

"I just want him to be sure," Kate murmurs back, sliding a hand underneath their son and bringing him in against her chest. Castle lets Jack shift into his mother's arms, his chest prickling with the sudden loss of the baby's warmth. "I want him to know how much we love him."

Jack is drowsy, his head rolling in the crook of Kate's arm, and he smacks his lips a couple of times as he settles into sleep.

"He knows we love him," Rick says firmly, resting a hand at their son's round little belly. "Kate, sweetheart, everyone in the entire world knows. It's all over your face whenever anyone so much as mentions his name."

"It's so much, Castle," she breathes. One hand worms out from underneath Jack and presses against her heart, as if to keep the spill of emotion inside. "So much. You were right about the lightning bolt."

Rick huffs a laugh and scrapes a hand through his hair, struck for maybe the eighth time today with how incredibly lucky he is. "Yeah. And it's. . .having another doesn't make it any less, you know? It's like, I had all this love in my heart for Alexis, and then the moment I got to hold Jack for the first time I felt it double and I thought my heart would burst out of my chest."

"You gonna survive baby number three?" his wife grins at him, shifting to lay her head against his shoulder.

"You know, I'm really not sure," Rick admits, kissing the crown of his wife's head. "I hope baby girl stays inside for a bit longer than her big brother. I don't think I can go through that again, Kate. I was so scared."

"So was I," his wife whispers, smiling down at their son and his snuffling sleep-breaths. "But it's okay, babe. He's okay. Doesn't seem to have done him any damage. He's still our bear cub."

Rick chuckles and tugs on Jack's foot just to hear that grumpy growl, making Kate laugh too. "You're right. After all, my dreams always come true."


	25. Hoof

**Hoof**

* * *

"I don't like it," Bea wails, both arms wrapped tight around Castle's thigh. Jackson is behind his father, his face mashed against the back of Castle's leg.

Kate rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest, sighing at the rest of her family. Mabel takes a couple of steps closer and nudges her head against Kate's hip; her kids scream as the cow approaches, and even Castle makes a decidedly unmanly noise.

"Guys, Mabel is lovely. Look, see how gentle she is.

"She's too big, Mom," Jack says fiercely, but he's got one hand fisted in the bottom of his father's shirt. "Way too big."

A sigh escapes her and Kate shares a look with the cow, laying her palm against the top of Mabel's head. The cow nudges against Kate's touch and calls out a low noise of contentment, shifting her weight. "She is a normal cow size."

"But Mama," Beatrice says, peering up at her from under the shelter of her father's arm. "We never seen a cow before."

"I know sweet girl, and you're lucky," Kate says, smoothing her fingers over Mabel's fur. "A lot of kids that live in the city have never seen a cow, never been to a farm."

"Lucky them," Castle grumbles, and Kate scowls at him. She wanted to do this because she always loved going to the cabin as a child, getting out into nature, and these days her kids complain if she even suggests a weekend visit to the park.

She doesn't want that for them, doesn't want them to spend their free time playing video games in the dark. So she brought - dragged - her family upstate for the weekend, and now they're visiting a farm. "Come stroke the cow. Come on. She's friendly."

"I don't wanna stroke her," Jack says bitterly, knocking his head against Castle's leg. "Dad, tell Mom we're not stroking the cow."

"You don't have to stroke the cow," Castle says, and Kate jabs her index finger into his chest. He jerks, a yelp escaping him, and Mabel lifts her head and blinks at him. "Ouch, Beckett. No violence in front of the kids."

Kate scowls at her husband, feeling a ridiculous heat at the backs of her eyes, and she squeezes them closed a moment to dispel it. "This is supposed to be a fun, family day. If I'd known you guys were going to hate it so much, I would have just stayed in the city."

"Beckett," her husband says, fingers coming to her shoulder, but she shrugs him off. "You're acting like a child. What's going on?"

"Being at the farm with my mom and dad are some of my best memories. I just wanted them to have that same thing."

"Oh, sweetie," Castle breathes, wrapping both arms around her. Kate lets herself get drawn in against his chest, both kids mashed between their legs and grumbling, and she tucks herself underneath her husband's chin. "We're just being silly, aren't we guys? And you have to admit, the cow is kinda huge."

Mabel moos as if she knows that they're talking about her, lifting her head to look Castle dead in the face and he gulps, reaching out a hand. His fingers don't quite make contact and then he curls them into a fist and draws his arm back.

"Touch the cow, Dad!" Jackson yells out, untangling himself from where he's trapped between his parents. He walks up to Mabel, his little body humming with confidence, and he lays a palm against the cow's flank. "See. I'm not scared."

"I'm wearing red," he hisses against Kate's ear and she laughs, knocking her temple against his.

Extracting herself from their hug, she scoops Beatrice up into her arms and carries the girl closer to Mabel. "That's bulls, Castle. And anyway, it's not the colour they respond to, it's the motion of the flag. Mabel is not going to fight you."

"Daddy fight," Bea giggles, leaning out of Kate's arms. She sets a hand against the cow's face, fingers stroking against the grain of Mabel's hair growth, and the cow snorts a breath out of her nose. Kate's daughter doesn't even jump, only laughs louder and pats Mabel. "Love her, Mama."

"Mabel loves you too, baby girl," Kate smiles, dropping one hand from around her daughter so that she can palm the back of Jackson's head and keep him close beside her. "Well done you guys. Good job being gentle."

Castle gruffs out a little noise and comes to stand with the rest of them, finally daring to reach out and stroke the cow. She knows that he's hamming it up, that he's not really all that afraid, but the kids always laugh whenever their daddy pretends to be terrified, whenever he cowers behind Kate.

"Brave, Daddy," Bea grins at her father when he strokes the cow.

Mabel bats her eyes at him again, her lashes long and dark, and Kate laughs. Setting their daughter down, she watches as Jack and Bea stroke one of Mabel's legs, and she slips her hand into Castle's. "I think the cow is flirting with you, babe."

"Sorry Mabel," Rick laughs, leaning in to dust a kiss to Kate's cheek. "Only one beautiful, brown-eyed woman for me."

"Don't break the cow's heart," she laughs, brushing the backs of her knuckles against Mabel's nose. "It's okay, pretty girl. Rick loves you."

That makes her husband grunt and he snags her hand away from the cow, tucking it into his pocket as if for safekeeping. "I don't love the cow. I tolerate her. They really are a lot bigger than you imagine them to be."

"You've seen cows before."

"Yeah," he shrugs, glancing down at their children. "But not when my kids are nearby. Not when they could get trampled at any moment."

Kate snorts a laugh and reaches out to stroke the cow's head again. "She's not gonna step on them, are you Mabel?"

"Now who's flirting."


	26. Emerge

**Emerge**

* * *

"It's too early," Kate sobs, and then another contraction takes over her and she bends double, her forehead pressed against his thigh.

Rick is sitting sideways on the hospital bed, Kate on the birthing ball between his legs. She rocks through the pain, her breathing in these tight gasps, and Rick rubs a palm against the base of her spine. "It's gonna be okay, Beckett. He's gonna be okay."

"No," she moans. Her face is red, that jagged vein in her forehead a startling purple in comparison, and sweat clings to her temples and her neck. "Rick, it's too fast. Too soon."

Another contraction grabs at her and Kate growls, rocking back and forth. It doesn't seem to be helping much, but their son is three and a half weeks too soon and everything is happening too quickly for real pain relief.

"Oh, god." Kate cries out. Her breathing is starting to sound feral now, her eyes screwed closed, and Rick gets the feeling she's not really talking to him. "Castle, I need to push, he's coming."

Rick pushes the call button for the midwife and she appears almost immediately, pulling on gloves as she comes into the room. "Alright Kate, let's get you on the bed and I'll check your dilation."

His hands hover uselessly as Kate heaves herself up into the bed. Once she's settled against the pillows he smoothes her hair out of her face, offering her a hand to hold. Her fingers squeeze tight around his and he gets in as close as he can manage, murmuring nonsense into her ear.

It all happens so quickly then. The midwife is paging for a doctor and people spill suddenly into the room, lifting Kate's feet into the stirrups. One nurse calls out a string of numbers that rapidly decrease, and a cold wave of sick fear washes over Rick when he realises that it's their son's heart rate.

"We need to get him out, Kate. Fast." The OBGYN says, hooking his mask over his ears. "When I say, I need you to push with everything you've got."

"Don't let him die," Kate pleads, her fingers even tighter around Rick's hand now so that the colour leaches out of his knuckles. "Castle, our son. Don't- oh, god."

"Push for me, Kate," the OBGYN says and Rick's wife closes her eyes with a grunt, her whole body straining as she pushes. A tear escapes from the corner of her eye and Rick catches it with the pad of his thumb, stroking her hair out of her face again. The doctor makes a noise and exchanges a glance with the nurse. "Alright, Kate, we're worried about your baby's heart rate, so we're going to have to use forceps. We're gonna give you an injection of local anaesthetic now, you'll feel a sharp pinch."

She grunts as the needle slides in, her head rolling on the pillow, and her eyes open to see him. Rick kisses her forehead, desperate to do something to help her. "Castle, I'm scared. I'm so scared."

"I know sweetheart," he murmurs, lifting her hand to his mouth so he can kiss her knuckles. "I am too. But we're in the best possible place, The doctors will take care of him."

"Push, Kate," the OBGYN calls out and she does, sitting up a little straighter in the bed as she focuses all her strength. Castle tries not to look, but he catches the glint of strip lighting against metal and he winces, has to turn away.

There's not a single sound when their son comes into the world, and when Rick glances at the baby his lips are blue. The doctors crowd around their baby boy, a mess of hands and strange instruments and then they're gone, whisking him out of the room.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers to his wife, touching three fingers to his own cheek to feel the slickness of tears. "Kate, you're amazing. I love you so much."

"Go with him," she pleads, a clumsy hand landing at his cheek. "Castle, go, go be with our son."

"They won't let you," one of the midwives says. "They're just giving him a little bit of help to start breathing and then they'll bring him right back, honey. Your husband will be more useful staying with you."

Kate covers her eyes with one hand, her mouth a jagged and ugly slash, and a wet sob bubbles up from her throat. "My baby. God, Rick, what did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, you didn't do anything wrong," he says fiercely, grappling for Kate's hand. "You were amazing. He's gonna be okay."

"We need to deliver the placenta honey, and then you're gonna need some stitches. You tore a little," the midwife says, both hands massaging Kate's stomach to help with the delivery of the placenta.

Rick holds tight to her hand through all of it, so completely in awe of her and how strong she is. A few minutes after the stitches are done, a nurse comes back with their baby in her arms, a blanket around him. "Here's your son, Mrs Castle. He needed some oxygen to get him going, but he's doing really well."

The nurse places their baby on Kate's chest and she strokes a finger over their son's cheek, tears escaping to slide down her cheeks as she stares down at him. "Hi there, sweet boy."

"He's so gorgeous," Rick breathes, reaching out to let their son curl his fingers around Rick's thumb.

The baby roots at Kate's chest, little mouth smacking, and she laughs. He's only half-cleaned, one eye open and squinting at them, and Rick swipes uselessly at his own tears.

"Hi, Jackson Roy," Kate breathes, leaning down to kiss the crown of their son's head. "I'm your mommy. You scared us, little guy."

Their son only yawns, fists clenched, and Rick leans into kiss his wife, love swelling in his chest for her and their baby both.


	27. Feather

**Feather**

* * *

"Castle!"

"Oh no," he mutters, pushing his chair back away from his desk. For half a second, he debates hiding underneath it, but no. No.

He is a grown man. And he is not terrified of his wife.

"Richard Castle," her voice comes again, sharper now. It makes his wrists ache immediately with phantom cuffs and he gulps, peers at her from between the bookshelves. She's striding through the living room, Jackson's hand tight in hers and the boy trips over his own feet as she drags him. "Get out here."

He steps through the door and into the living room, managing a smile for his wife as she seethes. "Hey honey. Welcome home. I didn't hear you come in."

"Apparently you haven't been observant of anything going on around you today," Kate says. Her voice is carefully flat, like when she has a suspect in the box and she's just waiting for them to back their own selves into a corner. "Why is our son covered in ink?"

"I bought a quill," he mutters. Kate gives Jackson enough slack that he can get his hand free from hers and he scuttles over to his father, burying his face against Castle's thigh. "Online. I wanted to learn calligraphy for our Christmas cards this year. And I. . .thought it was cool."

Jack peeks at his mother, but he still has a hand clutching at Castle's jeans. "I sorry, Mama. I not mean to."

"What happened, Castle?" she asks, sinking to sit on the couch. She leans back against it, one leg crossed over the other, and she folds her arms.

"Baby girl was fussing," he says, scooping their son up into a carry. Castle comes to sit in the easy chair and traps Jackson with an arm tight around the boy's waist. Partly because Kate looks like she will kill them both if Rick lets their son escape, and partly because Jack is cute enough to deflect some of Mommy's rage. "I had to go and see if she was okay."

One eyebrow arches up towards her hairline and Kate's eyes narrow. "So you just left our son unattended? With your quill. And the ink pot, by the look of him."

"He wasn't even in the room," Rick squeaks, and then he clears his throat to bring his voice down a few octaves. "He was completely absorbed in playing with his dinosaurs, but the moment I went upstairs he went into my office."

"I can't believe-" Kate starts, pressing a palm to her forehead and sighing a long breath through her nose. "Why didn't I just leave the safe open, let him play around with my gun."

"Okay well that's an overreaction," Castle huffs, letting their squirmy boy slide down from his lap. Jack scuttles off immediately, like a bug freed from underneath the magnifying glass, and Rick moves from the chair to the couch.

He reaches for his wife, an arm around her shoulders, and Kate sags against him immediately. "I know I'm being ridiculous. It was a tough day. I just wanted to come home and spend time with my family, but now I feel like I have to discipline our son. And maybe you too."

"I already reprimanded him," Castle murmurs, his lips nuzzling against Kate's temple. It works, as it does every time, and she cracks a smile. "And he's had two baths today. Been scrubbed to within an inch of his life. So you can be good cop, don't worry."

"Did he explain to you _why_ he took an ink bath?"

"Uh," Rick gulps, and his wife pulls away from his embrace to sit upright and pin him with a glare. "Well, he said he was trying to give himself a tattoo. Like Mommy's."

Kate drops her head into her hands and groans, her whole body hunched on the couch. "Oh God. I knew it was a mistake to ever let him see it."

"You love sharing baths with him," Rick says gently, splaying a palm against the ridges of his wife's spine. "This is not something you should feel guilty about, honey. We had a long talk about how tattoos are a decision that has to wait until we're a lot older, and about respecting Daddy's things."

"I should be here for this," she whispers, drawing her feet up onto the couch and wrapping both arms around her legs. "I don't want either of us to be good cop or bad cop. I want us to be a team."

He reaches for her again, because she looks so small and lost all curled in on herself. Rick tugs on her, arranging her until she's draped over his lap and her head is tucked underneath his chin. "We are a team. You know I couldn't do this without you."

"Yes you could," she mutters. "You did a great job with Alexis."

"Promise me you'll never tell her I said this?" he says, waiting for a nod of consent before he continues. "Raising Jack and Bea is so much better than raising Alexis ever was. I had to do it all alone, with her. But this time around, even when they're driving me insane I know that you'll come home and it'll be better. Having a partner in this makes even the difficult parts so much more amazing."

Kate hides her face against his chest, her fingers fisted in the material of his shirt. "I love you, Castle. I'm sorry it always seems to be you that has to handle everything."

"Hey, that's not true," he soothes, sifting his fingers through her hair. "You discipline them just as much, Beckett. And I know that if there was ever something serious, I could call and you'd be here. No matter what."

"I do love being a mom," she whispers. "Coming home to you and our babies is the best part of my day. And I'm sorry I overreacted."

"Hey, you didn't see my face when I found him."


	28. Gritty

**Gritty**

* * *

"I don't know if I can do this," Beatrice grumbles, folding her arms on the counter and resting her head on them. She growls, and Kate turns the heat down on the burner and comes around to her daughter.

Kate rubs a palm softly at Bea's spine. "You can do, sweet girl. You're gonna be okay."

"No I'm not," she wails, lifting her head. Her eyes are wet, lashes clinging together and she blinks fiercely. "Mom, I've never been this stressed. I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"You're not gonna puke," Kate says gently, moving to sit at her daughter's side. She's got pasta sauce cooking, but she can keep watch over it from here. And if it burns, they can throw it out and order pizza.

Beatrice presses her palms against her eyes and groans, a note of real desperation in her voice. "How did Jack make it through this, Mama? I feel like I haven't slept in weeks. I'm all gritty and gross, I can't stomach anything except coffee."

"I know baby," Kate soothes, wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulders. Beatrice lets herself get drawn in close and rests her head against her mother's chest, her eyes closed. "I know it's stressful. I remember it all too well. But you're gonna make it through this, I promise you."

"It's too hard," Bea whispers, fisting a hand in Kate's shirt. "I feel like I'm losing my mind, Mom. These exams determine the rest of my life. What if I screw up?"

"You won't," Kate says firmly, dusting a kiss to the crown of her daughter's head. "But if something weird happened and you didn't do great, Dad and I would still be proud of you. All we can ask is that you try your best, and look at you baby. You're working so hard."

"Mom's right," a voice says, and they both jolt.

Sitting up straight on her stool again, Beatrice manages a weak smile for her father as he comes to stand between Kate and their daughter. "Hey Dad. Didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sneaky," he shrugs, settling a hand at each of their shoulders. "Bea, sweetheart, Mom and I are always going to love you, no matter what."

"I wasn't worried you would stop loving me," their daughter rolls her eyes, swivelling on the stool to lean back against the countertop and face her father. "It's just that Alexis and Jack are both so smart. That's a lot to live up to."

Kate turns on her chair as well, lifting her chin to accept the kiss her husband brushes against her mouth. He's been running errands today, so that Beatrice could have the whole loft to study, and when Kate got home from work a half hour ago their daughter was stretched out on the living room floor with notes spread in a wide arc around her.

"You're smart too," Castle says, dragging the barstool on Kate's other side until it's in front of her and Beatrice and he can look at them both. He toes out of his shoes and wiggles his feet, the dog coming to butt his head against Castle's thigh in greeting. "You've always done great at school. You got Mom's brain, Bea."

"I'm just scared. And stressed," their daughter says, sliding down from her barstool to wrap both arms around Baudelaire. The dog rests his head at Bea's shoulder, his nose nuzzling into her neck and his tail thumping against the kitchen island.

Kate slips down from her own stool and joins her daughter on the floor, turning her face away when the dog tries to lick her cheek. Tugging on her husband's socked foot, she shoots him a look and he grumbles, joining the two of them on the floor.

The dog adores Castle, and the moment Kate's husband has his legs folded beneath himself Baudelaire is climbing into his lap and wriggling to get comfortable. Rick scratches behind the dog's ears, but his attention is focused on their baby girl. "Bea, sweetheart, I have no doubt that you're going to do fantastically. But I know that doesn't make it less stressful. So, how about we go out for dinner tonight?"

"Mom's cooking."

"It's just sauce," Kate shrugs, smiling when Beatrice slumps against her side. "It can go in the fridge and be leftovers. Let's go out."

"You sure honey?" Castle asks, narrowing his eyes as if to assess her true feelings. Kate smiles a little wider, sifting her fingers through their daughter's hair.

The dinner she was making isn't anything special, and she wants her baby girl to be okay. If only for an evening. "I'm sure. Let me take it off the stove so it can cool."

She gets to her feet to deal with the sauce, leaves her husband and daughter on the floor. Castle is tugging on Bea's arm to bring her into a hug, the dog whining when he gets trapped between their bodies. From over the top of the counter she can only see their heads, but she can hear her husband's insistent muttering.

He's great at pep talks. More than once when their kids were tiny things, her husband had to reassure her that she wasn't a failure of a mother. She can't hear what he's saying to Beatrice now, but she has no doubt that it's exactly what their girl needs to hear.

"Hey bud," she says to the dog when he comes to investigate, sidestepping him on her way to collect a tupperware from the cabinet. She pours the sauce into it and sets it on the counter to cool down, stooping to kiss Baudelaire's long nose. "You give Bea lots of love, okay? She needs it."

"Mama, are you talking to the dog?"

"No," Kate huffs, coming around the island to see two faces staring up at her. "Okay. Maybe a little bit."

Castle gets to his feet and nudges his elbow into her. "Get your coat, Dr Dolittle."


	29. Going

**Going**

* * *

"Why is Daddy going?" Beatrice asks, sitting on the countertop and drumming the heels of her feet against the cabinet underneath. Their daughter insisted on watching Kate cook today, has been clinging tight to her mother.

As if to say, _I don't need you anyway_. It hurts her husband, Kate knows that it does, but she loves the warmth of their girl in her arms, can't quite bring herself to push Bea away.

"Daddy has to do a book tour and meet lots of people," Kate says, holding her wriggly girl in place with one hand at Bea's knee while she drains the pasta into the sink. "He goes all around the country, and lots of people get to see him and have their book signed by him."

Jack's head pops up at the kitchen island and he sets down his crayons, propping his chin in his hands to look at her. "Did Dad ever sign your book, Mom?"

"Actually he did," Kate smiles, bringing the pasta strainer back over to the stovetop to add the noodles to the sauce she made. "A very, very long time ago. Mommy was only twenty years old."

"That's tiny," Bea says, her eyes huge and round in her cute little face. "Hi Daddy! You all packed?"

Castle laughs and comes into the kitchen to join the rest of them, sliding his arms around Kate's waist and kissing the back of her neck. She has the whole spill of her hair piled up on top of her head so that it doesn't get into her eyes, and the kids both groan dramatically at their father's affection.

"I'm all packed and ready to go. This smells great, honey."

"You checked your plane tickets?" Kate turns over her shoulder to look at him, rolling her eyes into the kiss he smudges against her mouth. Leaving always makes him needy, has him coming back to her over and over again to brush his fingers against her.

"Checked them," he nods, untangling himself from around her. Castle scoops Beatrice up from the counter and props her on his hip, dancing her around the kitchen. He heads for Jackson and plucks the boy from his barstool, lifting their son into his arms as well.

The weight of both kids makes him grunt and Kate shoots an alarmed glance to his knee, hoping that it won't give out and send her entire family crumpling to the floor. He shoots a smile at her and Kate shrugs, goes back to plating up dinner.

"Okay guys," she laughs, setting a hand against the top of each of their heads when Castle sets them down again. "Carry your plates to the table please. Carefully."

She passes each of them their dinner and collects her own plate, brushing a kiss to her husband's cheek when he leans past her to get his dish.

"Oh, hi," he grins, turning his face towards her so that he can steal another kiss from her lips. The kids are settled at the table now, Beatrice's spot opposite Kate and Jackson's beside her. Castle sits at the head of the table, always, and she scrunches her nose up.

"Gonna be weird without you," she murmurs, fisting a hand in the bottom of her husband's shirt before he can go and join their children at the table. "I'm gonna miss you, babe."

"You know how much I'll miss you guys," he says, his face twisting into anguish before he forces it smooth again and heads for the dining table. "Hey you two. How's dinner?"

"Yummy," Jack grins around a mouthful of pasta, turning to look over his shoulder at his mother as she comes to sit beside him. "Thanks Mom."

She sifts her fingers through her son's hair in silent thanks and sinks to sit at the table. They never have a quiet meal, not with Castle and Beatrice competing for the title of loudest in the room, and Kate shares a glance with her baby boy.

"Dad?" Jack butts in eventually, and Castle sets his fork down on the plate and shifts to look at their son. "Will you Skype with us every single day?"

"I'll try my very best," he says sincerely, and Bea gets to her knees in her chair and leans across the table to tug on Kate's ear.

She grunts, but she stretches across the rest of the distance until her little girl can whisper to her. "Mama, sometimes we could surprise Daddy. We could wear a funny costume."

"Great idea, Little Bean," she chuckles, sinking back to sit properly in her chair again. Bea climbs back into her seat as well and grins at her dad, her eyes scrunched closed with joy.

"I'll miss you guys more than you know," Castle gruffs out, scraping a hand over his jaw. "You be good for Mommy, okay. I don't want to hear that you were naughty just because Daddy wasn't home."

Jack's little chest puffs up in pride and he offers his mother a shy smile, wiggling in his seat. "I'll be the man of the house, Mom. You can rely on me."

"I already do, my sweet boy," she grins at her son, leaning in to kiss his cheek. It makes him squirm and he shies away from the wet touch of her mouth, grumbling to himself.

"I'm very proud of you two," Castle says, gaze flicking between the two of them. "You are very kind, and very smart, and I know that I don't need to worry about leaving Mommy alone in your capable hands."

Beatrice dissolves into giggles and presses her palms against her cheeks, her lips peeling back to show all of her teeth. "That's so silly, Daddy. Mama can take care of herself."

"I can," Kate agrees, nudging her foot against her daughter's underneath the table. "But having you two to help makes it a lot easier. Now, who wants to come with me to take Daddy to the airport?"

"Me!"


	30. Lucky

**Lucky**

* * *

"Hey guys," Rick grins as he approaches their group. They've carved out a chunk of sidewalk and Kate is doing that square-shouldered cop thing, cordoning the little ones off with her back to the flood of people.

At the sound of his voice she turns, and she tugs on Beatrice's foot. Castle's got their daughter up on his shoulders and Bea fists both hands in his hair to hold on. It makes his eyes water, but it's worth it to feel the excitement that hums through her.

"Hi Mommy," she says, leaning the weight of her body against the back of Rick's skull and wrapping both arms around his forehead. "I can see so far."

"Daaaad," Jackson whines, tugging on the leg of his father's jeans. "I can't see anything from down here. Just railings. It's not fair."

"Why don't you ask your mom to boost you up?" Ryan teases. He's got Beth up on his shoulders, Sarah Grace standing prim and straight in between her parents. The Ryan girls are so well behaved, somehow always immaculate and quiet, that more than once he and Kate have speculated that they're actually robots.

Jack butts his head against Kate's thigh and groans. He's been teetering close to a tantrum all day, didn't even want to come to the parade in the first place, and Castle keeps a careful eye on their son. Ready to do some damage control if he has to.

"Mom, I can't see."

"Babe," his wife hums, her eyes darting down to their grumpy boy a moment before she lifts them to meet his again. "He's too heavy for me. But I can take Little Bean if you've got Jack?"

"Sure," Castle puffs up his chest, although his shoulders are already aching from having their daughter up there for such a long time. It's easier not to lose her in a crowd this way, and he needed her to spot their family in the crowd.

He stoops down to let Kate lift Beatrice off him, his neck curiously light without her weight. His wife lifts their son to help him onto Rick's shoulders and Jack's bony butt grates against him, makes him grumble. Castle straightens up again, keeping a tight hold on their son's thighs so he doesn't topple. At least Jackson doesn't hold on to his father's hair.

"Okay sweet girl," Kate says, hands underneath their daughter's arms to lift her up. His wife ducks her head and settles Bea on her shoulders.

"Now I'm the only one that can't see," Sarah Grace says, the beginnings of a huff sneaking their way into her voice. Jenny runs a hand down the neat length of her daughter's braid and tugs gently on the end to bring her forwards, towards the railing.

"You're a big girl now. You get to stand with the grown ups."

Sarah Grace's skinny arms fold across her chest and her brows furrow, but then Kate touches three fingers to the girl's shoulder to snag her attention. "Hey. You know, being down there is a pretty good vantage point. Everyone in the parade is always wearing fantastic shoes."

"Really, Auntie Kate?" Sarah Grace says, turning wide blue eyes up towards Castle's wife. She gets a nod from her quasi-aunt and she grins, turning back to mash her face against the railings and wait for the parade to begin.

"Dad?" Jack says, bending almost in half to get his mouth close to his father's ear. "Do we have to stand here next to Uncle Kevin? His outfit is embarrassing."

He and Kate snort in unison, the kids both screaming dramatically when their parents whip around to look at Ryan and he shrugs. He's wearing all green today, a ridiculous felt top hat coming all the way up to Beth's chin.

At least he took off the fake ginger beard earlier. "What? It's St. Patrick's Day. You guys don't _have_ to be here, you're not even Irish."

"When have you ever known Castle to miss a parade?" Kate rolls her eyes, and Sarah Grace giggles. She's shuffling closer and closer to her aunt's side, until eventually her cheek meets Kate's thigh.

Both of Ryan's daughters are a little bit in awe of Beckett, but they've grown out of their giggling shyness now. Beatrice still gets a little jealous sometimes; when she was a toddler she would shove her cousins out of the way and yell that Kate was _her_ mommy.

It's not so bad anymore, but Rick catches the snarl at his daughter's lip and reaches out to tug on her ear, shoot her a warning glance. It makes her huff, but she drapes herself over her mother and presses a sloppy kiss to Kate's hair.

"Thank you for letting me see, Mommy."

"No problem sweet girl," Kate smiles, one hand wrapped around Beatrice's foot. She's wearing those tiny sneakers that Beckett loves so much today, and this morning before they left home their daughter had stomped back and forth in the entryway and grinned. "You tell us when it's starting, okay?"

"Okay Mama," she beams, narrowing her eyes to peer down the street.

Jackson is shifting around on top of Rick's shoulders and he squeezes his son's legs to make him sit still. "You alright, my man? Comfy?"

"Yeah," Jack says, clutching at his father's ears. "I'm good. Am I too heavy, Dad?"

"Course not," he gruffs. Kate's hand slides into his back pocket and squeezes and he huffs a breath through his nose, shuffles a little bit closer to his wife. "Bea, are you crushing Mommy?"

"Nooo, Daddy," their daughter giggles. "I'm not too heavy."

Kate nods her agreement and reaches for Castle's hand, her other still gripping their daughter so she doesn't fall. The music swells suddenly, jarring the bones of Castle's face, and the entire city orients to watch the parade make its way through the streets.

Jack's feet kick in time against his father's shoulders, and Rick doesn't even care.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for sticking with me on this journey, and for loving this universe as much as I do. There's a list of all the stories in this universe in chronological order on my tumblr, katiehoughton.


End file.
